Dr.  Eobert  P.  Utter. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 


SobeL 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

'OUGHT  WE   TO  VISIT   HER?"   "ARCHIE   LOVELL," 
'STEVEN   LAWRENCE,  YEOMAN,"  ETC. 

r*.    ^/    t  *  4M*u*  _**.     *f    ,^ 


NEW    YORK: 

SHELDON   &   COMPANY,    677   BROADWAY 

AND  214  &  216  MERCER  STREET, 

UNDER  GRAND  CENTRAL  HOTSL. 

1872. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AT    SWINDOIT. 

"WHAT  is  the  supposed  origin  of  ladies'  carriages,  Miss 
Bates?  They  are  a  time-honored  institution,  of  course; 
but  in  these  days  one  likes  to  know  more  about  things 
than  that  they  exist  —  one  likes  derivations.  What  are 
ladies'  carriages  derived  from,  and  what  is  their  supposed 
object?" 

"  My  dear  Miss  Dashwood  —  I  really  —  so  very  amus- 
ing!" 

"  Milly,  listen  to  Miss  Bates  c  On  Ladies'  Carriages.' 
She  says,  imprimis,  they  are  amusing." 

"  My  dear,  I  meant  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  meant,  you 
know,  that  they  are  very  proper " 

"  And  you  separate  the  two  ideas  ?  You  think  that 
nothing  that  is  right  can  be  pleasant.  Oh,  Miss  Bates, 
Miss  Bates,  what  a  fast  person  you  are  growing !  How 
fearfully  the  last  four  years  have  degenerated  you !  " 

"  What  spirits  !  "  was  Miss  Bates'  response  to  this  lit- 
tle attack  upon  her  character;  "what  charming  spirits 
dear  Miss  Dashwood  continued  to  enjoy!  just  as  full  of 
life  and  fun  as  ever !  "  And  then,  the  last  bell  having 
rung,  Miss  Bates  insisted  upon  getting  into  the  carriage 
once  more  to  kiss  all  her  dear  young  friends  before  their 
departure ;  and,  finally,  in  the  forgetfulness  of  affection, 
was  very  near  beincr  locked  in,  and  borne  away  with  them 

961757 


4  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

in  the  express  train  —  aAi  accident  which  all  her  very  dear 
young  blends  a^err-ed  remarkably  anxious  to  prevent. 

"  She  means  well,  I  believe,"  said  Hilly  Dash  wood,  as 
they  caught  the  last  sight  of  the  Bates  struggling  wildly 
among  a  crowd  of  porters  upon  the  platform  of  the  Pad- 
dington  terminus.  "  She  means  well,  but  she  is  very  un- 
pleasant. Oh,  how  glad  I  am  to  be  free  from  her! " 

"  She  is  detestable,"  said  Jane,  curtly.  "  I  hate  her  — 
as  she  hates  me  !  That  is  right,  Miss  Fleming,  open  the 
windows  on  both  sides.  We  have  need  of  a  good  fresh 
draught  upon  us  after  all  the  Bates'  kisses !  "  And  here 
Miss  Dash  wood  threw  her  hat  off  with  visible  impatience 
at  the  mere  recollection  of  her  friend's  caresses,  and  held 
her  face  to  the  open  window,  through  which  the  summer 
morning  wind  was  blowing  freshly. 

It  was  a  lovely  face !  I  speak  advisedly;  for  few  faces 
are  lovely  in  real  life;  but  hers  undoubtedly  was  so. 
Such  brilliant  coloring !  such  abundance  of  dark  fine 
hair !  such  liquid  hazel  eyes !  I  don't  think  there  was 
anything  at  all  in  the  expression  of  the  features,  collec- 
tively, that  charmed  you  as  you  looked  at  her.  You 
thought  of  eyes  and  lips  and  blooming  cheeks  alone.  I 
am  quite  sure  you  read  nothing  whatever  of  beauty  of 
mind  or  soul,  as  one  does  in  romance,  upon  Jane  Dash- 
wood's  face.  You  were  quite  content  with  the  beauty 
of  the  outward  material,  without  going  deeper,  or  seek- 
ing for  the  exact  inward  charms  she  did  not  possess ;  and 
at  this  moment,  when  I  first  introduce  her  to  you,  dressed 
in  a  simple  rose-colored  muslin,  and  with  the  broad  June 
morning  resting  full  upon  her  faultlessly  pure  complexion, 
she  formed,  altogether,  about  as  favorable  a  type  of  a  fair 
young  Englishwoman  in  the  freshness  of  her  first  matu- 
rity as  you  would  meet,  or  desire  to  meet  with  anywhere. 

Her  sister  Millicent  at  her  side  was  also  pretty,  mig- 
nonne^  and  delicate  —  even  more  frailly  delicate  —  than 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  5 

Jane  —  but  with  less  perfect  features  —  perhaps  with 
somewhat  a  sweeter  and  less  restless  expression  than 
her  elder  sister.  At  the  few  balls  to  which  Milly 
had  ever  been  (she  was  only  seventeen,  and  yesterday 
was  a  school-girl,)  she  had  had  quite  as  many  part- 
ners as  Miss  Dashwood,  and  had,  on  the  whole,  been  bet- 
ter liked  by  the  men  who  danced  with  her.  Jane  was 
beautiful  enough  to  give  herself  royal  airs,  and  took  full 
advantage  of  the  prerogative.  Millicent  was  only  pretty 
enough  to  be  shy  and  coaxing  and  good-tempered,  with? 
at  times,  a  slight  dash  of  willfulness  flavoring  the  good- 
temper  :  but  Milly  found  these  subjective  charms  quite  as 
powerful  in  their  way  as  Jane's  objective  ones,  and  she 
was  not  only  thoroughly  unenvious  of  her  sister's  supe- 
rior beauty,  but,  possessed  of  the  conviction  —  as  deep 
down  in  her  mind  as  Milly's  little  mind  had  depth  — that 
she  would,  one  day  or  another,  rule  quite  as  triumphantly 
over  a  limited  empire  of  her  own  as  Jane,  in  all  the  pride 
of  her  beauty  and  arrogance  and  one-and-twenty  years, 
was  reigning  over  hers  now. 

This  empire,  reader,  did  not  extend  over  the  very  first 
London  society,  of  which  the  Dashwood  girls  knew  noth- 
ing, but  over  that  outlying  and  somewhat  mouldering 
province  of  fashion,  Bath,  where  their  father,  Colonel 
Dashwood,  had  been  a  shining  light  during  the  last  twe-n- 
ty  years.  Jane  had  now  been  staying  a  fortnight  in  town 
with  distant  relatives  to  see  the  exhibitions,  for  which  she 
cared  nothing,  and  to  go  to  see  one  or  two  operas,  for 
which  she  cared  a  great  deal :  Jane  Dashwood  assisted  a 
very  little,  you  see,  in  white  silk  and  jasmine-wreath,  at 
the  latter  entertainments,  not  at  all  at  the  former  ones. 
And  she  was  this  day  chaperoning  Milly  home  to  Bath, 
that  young  person's  apprenticeship  at  the  finishing  estab- 
lishment of  Miss  Bates,  Kensington  Gravel  Pits,  haying 
just  expired. 


6  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"Yes,  you  are  finished,  Milly,"  Jane  remarked,  when 
her  indignant  recollection  of  Miss  Bates  had  had  time  to 
cool.  "  Poor  little  Milly,  of  seventeen,  finished !  I  never 
kissed  you  before  Miss  Bates,  child  ;  I  couldn't.  Let  me 
look  at  you.  Milly,  dear,  I  think  you  look  stronger  than 
you  used  to  do; "  and  Jane  put  her  arms  round  her,  and 
kissed  her  with  one  of  those  long,  silent  caresses  that  she 
never  bestowed  upon  any  living  being  but  her  sister. 
"  Milly,  we  shan't  be  parted  any  more,  now." 

"And  I  shall  have  to  learn  nothing  more,  Jane.  I  hate 
learning ! " 

"  So  did  I,  Milly.  I  had  seven  years  of  it  — you  have 
only  had  four." 

"  But  you  were  clever.  You  could  win  prizes  and  make 
progress." 

"And  enemies,  Milly.  Now  I  dare  say  you  have  had 
some  real  friends  at  school.  I  never  had  one." 

"  I  have  Esther,"  said  Milly,  glancing  at  their  young 
companion,  who  had  betaken  herself  to  the  farther  com- 
partment of  the  carriage.  "  Esther  is  worth  a  dozen 
common  friends.  I  like  her  better  than  any  one  in  the 
world  but  you,  Jane,  although  I've  only  known  her  six 
months.  She  is  so  clever  —  did  my  exercises  like  a  key, 
and  mended  my  stockings  most  beautifully,  every  other 
thread  —  but  not  pretty,  Jane,  eh  ?  " 

"  She  is  distinguished-looking,"  replied  Miss  Dash  wood, 
who,  like  all  unequivocally  handsome  women,  could  afford, 
at  times,  to  be  generous  ;  "  pretty  is  not  the  word  for  her. 
She  has  just  that  air  noble  which  papa  is  always  trying 
to  impress  upon  our  minds  as  so  essentially  aristocratic 

—  as  though  little  things  like  you  and  me,  Milly,  could 
be  statuesque,  if  we  tried." 

"  Oh,  papa !  "  repeated  Milly,  the  parental  image  evi- 
dently coming  before  her  mind  for  the  first  time*  "  Papa 

—  how  is  he  ?  —  I  quite  forgot  to  ask  —  and  mamma  ?  " 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  7 

"  Much  as  usual,"  answered  Jane,  shortly.  "  Philan- 
thropy and  nerves,  title-hunting  and  polemical  tea-par- 
ties :  the  old  routine  of  our  house,  Milly,  from  which  I, 
as  of  old,  escape  as  much  as  usual." 

"  Where  to,  Jane  ?  Who  are  your  dear,  intimate  friends 
at  present  ?  What  have  I  got  to  look  forward  to  ?  " 

"I  have  no  friends  at  all,"  answered  Miss  Dash  wood. 
"  I  never  do  have  any  ;  and  I  shall  want  them  less  than 
ever  now  that  I  have  got  you  back,  Milly.  But  I  am  use- 
fully intimate  with  one  or  two  young  women  of  my  own 
age,  and  in  their  society  I  walk  about  the  streets  in  win- 
ter and  the  park  in  summer.  You  know  !  Then  in  the 
winter  old  Mrs.  Blantyre  took  me  to  the  balls,  when  papa 
was  laid  up  with  the  gout,  and  in  the  summer  young  Mrs. 
Strangways  has  promised  to  take  us  both  to  the  archery- 
meetings  and  the  subscription  pic-nics." 

"What!  the  Mrs.  Strangways  you  used  to  dislike 
so?" 

"The  same,"  said  Jane,  with  a  somewhat  hard  laugh; 
"  and  with  the  same  amiable  feelings  still  going  on  between 
us !  She  is  a  capital  chaperon,  Milly.  Young  married 
women  always  are  —  particularly  when  they  dislike  one 
very  heartily." 

"I  can  understand  that,"  replied  Milly,  after  giving  the 
subject  sufficient  attention  to  grapple  duly  with  its  myster- 
ies. "  If  they  take  you  they  amuse  themselves,  and  let 
you  do  exactly  as  you  like,  of  course.  But  why  does  a 
woman  like  Mrs.  Strangways  care  to  be  troubled  with  you 
at  all,  Jane  ?  " 

"  Because  new  lights  may  bring  back  old  worshippers 
to  the  neglected  shrine,  because  a  little  stray  incense  — -( 
oh,  Milly,  darling,  don't  let's  talk  of  these  people  now ! 
You  will  learn  enough  of  such  tactics  as  Mrs.  Strangways' 
without  my  teaching  you !  Do  you  know,  child,  your  hair 
has  grown  darker  ?  I  am  quite  positive  it  has.  I  wonder 
whether  Mrs.  Dash  wood  will  see  it." 


8  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

And  Miss  Dash  wood  stroked  down  her  sister's  hair  with 
loving  hands,  looking  into  its  texture  and  color  with  some- 
thing of  that  close,  long  scrutiny  with  which  children's 
hair  and  cheeks  and  eyes  are  scrutinized  when  they  come 
back  to  their  mother,  grown  and  altered,  after  every  six 
months'  absence  at  school. 

"  Fancy  Mrs.  Dash  wood  thinking  of  such  earthly  vani- 
ties as  a  shade  of  difference  in  my  tawny  locks  !  "  cried 
Milly.  "Papa,  of  course,  would  like  to  see  the  article 
*  daughter '  generally  improved  and  more  marketable, 
but  no  one  on  earth  besides  you,  Jane,  ever  feels  any  con- 
cern about  me  or  my  looks  when  I  come  and  go.  Luck- 
ily, it  does  not  break  my  heart!  I  really  wonder  some, 
times,  whether  I  have  much  feeling. or  not.  Oh,  Jane, 
talking  of  feelings,  where  is  Pa  ul  ?  " 

«  Milly ! " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  Esther  —  Esther  knows  nothing  about 
it,  and  if  she  did  it  wouldn't  signify.  Don't  be  angry,  Jen- 
ny. If  I  thought  you  really  cared  about  him  I  should 
have  said  nothing,  but  as  you  are  only " 

"  Only  engaged  to  him  it  does  not  matter,  "  cried  Miss 
Dashwood,  with  her  short  laugh.  "Miss  Fleming,  what 
nonsense  has  Milly  been  telling  you  about  me?" 

"  Only  nonsense,  I  am  sure,"  answered  a  calm,  sonorous 
voice,  singularly  different  in  its  ring  and  cadence  to  the 
Dashwoods.  "  I  should  be  sorry  to  believe  it  anything 
else." 

"  Oh,  you  dear,  steady,  severe  old  Esther  !  "  cried  Miss 
Milly.  "  Please  don't  be  so  like  Miss  Bates  on  the  first 
day  of  our  freedom.  I  feel  the  prison-chill  steal  over  me 
again  when  you  come  out  with  those  awful  moral  senti- 
ments —  "I  should  be  sorry  to  believe  it  anything  else." 
Really,  it  seemed  like  Miss  Bates  in  person,  didn't  it, 
Jane?" 

"I  think  no  two  human  beings  in  the  world  could  be  so 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  9 

unlike  as  Miss  Fleming  and  the  Bates,"  said  Jane,  quickly. 
"If  I  were  any  judge  of  such  matters  I  should  say  that 
I  think  both  you  and  I,  Milly,  have  a  great  many  more 
Bates  qualities  than  Miss  Fleming  has.  Miss  Bates  is 
worldly  ;  so  are  we :  yes,  Milly,  dear,  even  you,  in  spite  of 
your  blue  eyes,  and  your  seventeen  years  :  Miss  Bates's 
life  is  acting,  every  hour,  of  it ;  so  is  ours  :  Miss  Bates  has 
only  one  object  —  to  seem  what  she  is  not;  our  ambition 
directed  into  another  channel,  is  the  same.  She  is  odious 
and  we  are  delightful,  certainly ;  but  these  are  adventi- 
tious conditions  beyond  our  own  control.  At  heart -" 

"  We  are  both  of  us  selfish,  sordid,  wicked,  worldly 
hypocrites,"  interrupted  Milly,  laughing.  "  How  I  do  like 
to  hear  you  in  your  sudden  fits  of  repentance,  Jenny. 
Come  over  here,  Esther,"  she  added,  turning  to  her  friend, 
"  and  hear  Miss  Dashwood  holding  forth  on  our  family 
virtues.  Don't  be  shy  —  oh,  I  forgot!  I  have  not  intro- 
duced you, —  Jane,  Esther.  Esther,  Jane.  What  a  color 
you  have  got,  Mistress  Fleming,  with  holding  your  face 
outside  the  window  all  this  time.  You  don't  look  very 
much  like  Miss  Bates,  I  must  confess." 

Not  very  like,  certainly ;  Miss  Bates  being  parchment- 
hued,  withered,  forty-five ;  Esther  Fleming  fresh,  full  of 
life  and  health,  and  only  just  eighteen.  -  Still  Jane  Dash- 
wood  had  been  right  in  applying  the  qualified  terms 
"  noble"  and  "  distinguished-looking  "  to  Miss  Fleming's 
style  of  beauty.  Handsome  though  she  was  when  you 
came  to  know  her  face  by  heart,  not  two  persons  out  of 
a  hundred  would  have  hesitated,  at  first  sight,  to  pro- 
nounce her  face  inferior  in  good  looks  to  either  of  the 
Dashwood  girls.  She  had,  as  Milly  told  her,  a  color  at 
this  moment,  but  ordinarily  she  was  pale  ;  and  color  is 
after  all  the  standard  common-place  criterion  of  beauty 
Then  she  possessed  none  of  the  little  piquant  graces  that 
formed  so  many  charms  in  the  Dashwood  girls.  She  wai 
1* 


JO  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

ratHer  large,  and  decidedly  strongly  built:  and  beside 
their  two  little  fragile  figures  you  would  inevitably  have 
been  possessed  during  the  first  ten  minutes  or  so,  with  the 
idea  that  she  was  not  perfectly  refined.  With  good  room 
to  study  the  three  young  women  in  —  an  open  moorland, 
say,  with  sky  for  roof  and  heather  for  carpet  —  you  must 
Boon  have  reversed  your  first  judgment ;  for  every  line  in 
Esther's  well  grown  frame  was  duly  proportioned  ;  finer 
far,  in  fact,  than  the  Dashwoods'.  Her  hands  had  the  brown 
healthy  look  of  hands  that  have  lived  much  out  of  doors, 
but  they  were  not  too  large  for  her  size,  and  in  shape 
were  perfect  as  a  gipsy's,  while  the  Dashwoods'  hands 
were  only  short-fingered,  and  small,  and  white.  Her  walk 
—  on  the  moor,  mind,  I  don't  mean  in  a  ball-room  —  was 
free  and  stately  as  a  Tyrol  peasant  girl's.  The  Dash- 
woods'  paces  were  good  as  far  as  they  went,  but  they  were 
paces  still.  Then  Esther  Fleming's  head  was  small  and 
admirably  formed,  and  this  is  a  beauty  possessed  by  not 
one  otherwise  handsome  Englishwoman  in  a  hundred. 
Her  hair  was  fairer  by  many  shades  than  you  would  have 
expected  from  her  dark  clear  skin ;  brown  waving  hair? 
growing  golden  almost  in  a  very  full  light.  Her  face  — 
no,  I  will  leave  that  alone ;  all  descriptions  of  faces  are  a 
mistake.  I  may  tell  you  of  a  cheek  serene  and  clear,  of 
black-grey  eyes,  of  a  delicate  firm-cut  month  ;  I  can  never 
bring  the  living  Esther  Fleming  herself  one  whit  nearer 
to  you.  You  will  not  see  her  smile,  half  shy,  half  serious  ; 
you  will  not  see  the  expression  of  her  loving,  thoughtful 
eyes,  with  all  my  catalogue  of  charms.  Read,  instead, 
the  expression  of  the  face  that  you  were  enamored  of 
when  you  first  left  school,  and  you  will  see  before  you 
a  more  lovable  heroine  than  any  that  words  of  mine  can 
by  any  possibility  set  forth. 

"  This  is  the   wild  woman  of  the  woods  that  I  have 
written  to  you  about,"  said  Milly,  addressing  her  sister 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  H 

and  possessing  herself,  school-girl  like,  of  Miss  Fleming's 
hand.  "  Doesn't  she  look  as  if  she  had  lived  in  the  wilds 
of  Exmoor  all  her  life  ?  Esther,  what  do  you  think  of 
Jane?" 

"  Your  sister  is  like  you,  Milly,  but " 

"  Prettier.  Of  course ;  I  have  heard  that  since  I  was  a 
baby,  and  have  quite  left  off  being  jealous.  That  brings 
us  round — I  don't  know  by  what  road  — to  Paul  again. 
Don't  try  to  blush,  Jenny ;  where  is  he  ?  " 

"Mr.  Cliichester  is  in  Bath,"  Jane  replied  ;  "  or  rather, 
he  was  there  when  I  left.  He  never  stays  more  than  two 
or  three  days  at  a  time.  I  can't  think  what  in  the  world 
makes  him  come  out  there  at  all." 

"  But  does  he  really  visit  at  our  house,  Jane  ? 

"  Of  course." 

"Whenever  he  comes  to  Bath?" 

"  YeSj  I  believe  so." 

"  Then  it  is  a  positive  engagement.  Oh,  Jane,  and  you 
never  told  me  !  When  is  it  to  be  ?  " 

"  Never,  Milly,  if  by  'it'  you  mean  my  marriage  with 
Mr.  Chichester." 

4<  Yet  you  are  engaged,  with  papa's  consent!  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  thing,  —  with  papa's  consent,"  said 
Miss  Dashwood,  with  emphasis;  "I  am  looked  upon  for 
the  time  being  as  settled,  and  am  accorded  leave  to  be  at 
peace,  sometimes  even  to  refuse  a  ball  if  I  like  it.  Oh, 
Milly,  it  gives  the  whole  house  such  a  strange  air  of  re- 
pose, this  little  dream  about  Mr.  Chichester.  Papa  actu- 
ally allowed  himself  an  attack  of  the  gout  last  winter. 
Fancy  his  succumbing  to  such  a  weakness  if  he  had  had 
a  disengaged  daughter  upon  his  hands  ! " 

"As  he  will  have  now,  Jane,"  said  Milly,  after  some 
consideration.  "  I  believe  —  only  I  don't  like  to  think 
even  you  so  cruel  —  that  you  are  letting  this  engagement 
go  on  simply  to  mystify  papa,  and  be  at  rest  yourself." 


12  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Jane  Dash  wood  laughed.  "  It  is  a  good  piece  of  strat- 
egy, is  it  not,  Milly  ?  Peace  and  freedom  for  the  present, 
relief  for  the  paternal  mind,  and  if  everything, else  fails, 
Paul  to  fall  back  upon  at  the  last.  I  don't  believe  he 
has  a  farthing  in  the  world,  but  as  soon  as  it  entered  into 
my  head  to  be  engaged  to  him  —  Mrs.  Strangways  was 
trying  to  take  him  up,  and  it  amused  me  to  assist  her  — 
I  got  one  or  two  obedient  little  birds  of  mine  to  whisper 
into  papa's  ear  that  he  is  to  have  eight  hundred  a  year 
when  some  fabulously  old  person  shall  die.  And  so,  nous 
voila!" 

"  And  Mr.  Chichester  ?  "  cried  Esther,  aghast  with  hor- 
ror at  hearing  things  which  she  held  so  sacred,  desecrat- 
ed in  such  fashion.  "Mr.  Chichester — what  of  him?" 

"  Oh,  he  is  not  ill-looking,"  said  Jane,  calmly,  "  and  yet 
not  strictly  handsome.  Dark,  slight,  rather  grizzled  hair, 
eyes  that  see  a  great  deal  farther  into  one's  thoughts  than 
is  agreeable,  and  a  by  no  means  good-tempered  mouth. 
For  the  rest,  one  could  wish  of  course  that  he  had  a  large 
prospective  income ;  still,  eight  hundred  a  year,  with 
management,  is  not  so  bad." 

"  But  his  feelings  !  "  cried  Esther,  who  could  not  hide 
her  indignation  at  such  alarming  levity.  "His  feelings  ; 
do  they  go  quite  for  nothing?" 

"Most  entirely  and  absolutely  for  nothing,"  said  Jane. 
"I  see  you  are  not  of  the  world,  Miss  Fleming.  You  be- 
lieve that  men  die,  as  young  ladies  are  represented  to  do 
in  novels,  from  blighted  affection.  It  is  an  exploded  be- 
liefj  I  assure  you.  Nobody  dies  from  any  other  than 
strictly  material  causes  in  these  days.  If  Mr.  Chichester 
were  here  I  should  talk  in  the  same  way  that  I  am  doing 
now,  and  he  wouldn't  mind  it  in  the  least." 

"  He  must  have  strange  ideas  of  honor,  then,"  thought 
Esther ;  "  a  strange  kind  of  reverence  for  the  woman  he 
means  to  make  his  wife."  Then  aloud,  "  You  must  make 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          13 

allowance  for  the  ignorance  of  my  questions,  Miss  Dash- 
wood.  I  begin  to  see  that  I  belong  to  a  generation  gone 
by.  I  have  never  lived  out  of  a  country  village  till  the 
last  six  months.  I  know  nothing  of  love  matters.  I 
know  nothing  of  the  world." 

"  Nor  need  you  wish  to  do  so,  Miss  Fleming,"  said  Jane 
quickly.  "  Nor,  if  you  were  thrown  on  the  world,  would 
you  ever  be  what  Milly  and  I  are  now.  We  have  had 
unusual  advantages  from  our  cradles,  and,  with  great 
natural  aptitude,  have  improved  them  to  the  uttermost. 
I  am  twenty-one,  Milly  is  seventeen,  and  we  are  both  as 
•  entirely  free  from  all  youthful,  foolish  extravagances  in 
the  way'  of  sentiment  as  though  we  were  middle-aged 
women.  Are  we  not,  Milly  ?  " 

"  I  know  that  I  have  got  a  most  youthful  desire  for  food, 
at  all  events,"  -  replied  Miss  Millicent ;  "  and  also  that  I 
am  delighted  to  look  forward  to  the  prospect  of  S  win  don. 
What  shall  we  have,  Jenny  ? —  sausage-rolls  or  Bath  buns, 
or  both?" 

"I  never  eat  in  the  morning,"  said  Miss  Dash  wood, 
languidly.  "  What  a  school-girl  you  are,  Milly." 

"But  it  will  be  one  o'clock  when  we  get  to  Swindon," 
remarked  Esther,  apologetically.  "  One  o'clock  —  dinner 
time  —  and  Milly  and  I  have  had  nothing  since  eight." 

"  And  then  only  a  Bates'  breakfast,"  added  Milly.  It's 
all  very  well  for  you,  a  come-out  young  lady,  to  be  so 
grand,  Jenny.  Esther  and  I  are  not  at  all  above  being 
hungry." 

Accordingly,  when  the  train  stopped  at  Swindon,  these 
two  young  persons  got  out,  and  with  the  eagerness  of 
veritable  school-girls  made  their  way  to  thG  pastry,  Miss 
Dashwood  remaining  alone  in  a  dignified  manner  in  the 
carriage.  She  was  a  great  deal  too  blaze  to  care  for  eat- 
ing at  one  o'clock ;  perhaps  the  admiring  looks  her  pret- 
ty face  attracted  from  the  crowded  platform  formed  «'ip 


14  THE  ORDEAL  OF  WIVES. 

tenance  of  a  more  easily  assimilated  nature  than  Bath 
buns.  At  all  events  she  bore  all  scrutiny  with  the  most 
perfectly  unruffled  coolness,  leaning  her  head  back  so 
that  her  brown  hair  and  delicate  profile  came  out  in  excel- 
lent relief  against  the  dark  cushions  of  the  carriage,  and 
seemed  unusually  well  satisfied  and  complacent  when  the 
two  other  girls  returned. 

"  One  sausage-roll,  two  Bath  buns,  a  raspberry-tart, 
and  a  pint  of  strawberries,"  Milly  enumerated,  taking 
these  little  refreshments  one  by  one  out  of  her  bag,  "  that 
is  my  lunch.  Esther  the  same;  bi4t  sandwiches  instead, 
of  saucisson.  Oh,  Jenny,  how  dreadful  it  must  be  to  be 
a  used-up  victim  of  society,  like  you,  or  a  heroine  in  a 
novel,  in  neither  of  which  capacities  is  hearty  eating  al- 
lowed. Then  we  have  had  an  adventure,  too  ;  haven't 
we,  Esther  ?  Jenny  missed  more  than  Bath  buns  by  in- 
sisting on  being  grand." 

"An  adventure  at  Swindon  must  be  so  thrilling,"  re- 
marked Miss  Dash  wood.  "  The  accessories  are  all  of 
such  a  romantic  nature ;  fat  old  gentlemen  swearing  at 
their  boiling  soup,  fast  young  Oxonians  calling  for  their 
morning  beer,  nurses  wildly  entreating  the  pert  waiting- 
girls  for  bottles  of  milk,  frenzied  single  women  imploring 
the  guard  to  listen  to  them,  or  choking  themselves  on 
bad  pastry  in  their  fear  of  being  left  behind." 

"  To  neither  of  which  class  did  he  belong,"  interrupted 
Milly.  "Did  he,  Esther?" 

Miss  Fleming  thought  "  he  "  might  have  been  an  Oxo- 
nian ;  but  he  certainly  was  not  drinking  beer,  at  least  not 
then. 

"  And  pray  who  is  che  ?  '  asked  Jane,  with  sovereign 
contempt.  "  Which  of-your  numerous  acquaintance  have 
you  met  with,  Milly  ?  " 

"No  acquaintance  at  all,  Jane,  but  an  exceedingly  gen- 
tlemanly, interesting-looking  person.  You  shall  not  put 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  15 

down  our  adventure  in  that  envious  and  malignant 
way," 

"  And  what  did  the  interesting  gentleman  with  whom 
you  are  not  acquainted  say  to  you,  Milly  ?  " 

"  It  was  to  Esther." 

"  I  was  trying  to  make  my  way  to  the  counter,  and  the 
people  pushed  me  back,"  said  Miss  Fleming,  with  a  de- 
cided accession  of  coloring  in  her  face,  "  and  a  tall  man 
who  stood  near  us  asked  me  if  he  could  help  me." 

"And  Esther  said  'yes,'  in  her  simple  way,  Jenny,  and 
he  made  room  for  us.  Wasn't  it  thoughtful  of  him  ?  " 

"  And  is  that  all  ?  " 

"All !  why,  would  you  have  a  stranger  do  more,  Jane  ? 
I  say  it  was  most  attentive.  And  then  he  was  so  thor- 
oughly gentlemanly  in  his  manner." 

"  So  interesting !  "  cried  Miss  Dashwood,  with  her  lit- 
tle mocking  laugh.  "  How  angry  I  am  with  myself  for 
having  missed  this  Swindon  Bayard." 

"Interesting  is  a  dreadful  word  to  apply  to  any  man," 
Esther  remarked  with  deliberation.  "  It  makes  one  think 
of  white  hands,  and  hair  parted  like  a  girl's,  and  a  lisp." 

"  None  of  which  our  stranger  possessed,"  cried  Millicent. 
"  He  was  a  great,  broad-shouldered  man,  with  a  sun- 
burnt face  and  hands.  Much  too  manly-looking  for  your 
style,  Jenny  ;  you  like  —  " 

"  Eat  another  of  those  saffron  lumps  of  indigestion, 
Milly  dear,"  interrupted  Miss  Dashwood,  "and  don't 
chatter.  I  shall  have  to  chaperon  you  with  more  care  if 
you  take  up  these  sudden  fancies  for  attentive  strangers." 

"  Don't  be  frightened,  Jane ;  he  never  thought  of  me 
at  all  —  never  looked  at  me,  I  believe.  The  whole  of  the 
attention  was  to  Esther,  who  received  it  just  as  coolly  as 
she  is  now  eating  her  strawberries.  I  never  saw  any  one 
with  undeniable  teeth  smile  so  rarely  as  Esther  does." 

"  Smile  !  why,  Milly,  you  would  not  have  had  me  smile 


J.6  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

at  a  strange  young  man  for  an  act  of  common  civility ! 
I  thanked  him  sufficiently,  I  believe." 

"  Quite  sufficiently,  I  am  sure,"  remarked  Miss  Dash- 
wood,  looking  closely  at  Esther.  "  He  was,  no  doubt, 
some  excellent  young  Wiltshire  farmer  going  down  to  a 
pig-fair,  if  there  are  such  things,  and  —  " 

"  No,"  interrupted  Miss  Fleming,  quite  firmly,  although 
she  smiled.  "  The  stranger  was  a  gentleman,  Miss  Dash- 
wood." 

"  With  black  hands  and  high  shoulders." 

"  With  brown  hands  and  broad  shoulders.  A  manly- 
looking  young  Englishman." 

"  A  true  descendant  of  the  Vikings,"  interrupted  Milly. 

"  Say  it  out,  Esther.  One  of  your  favorite  muscular 
heroes,  all  sinews  and  high  principles." 

"  Of  which  I  could  form  such  admirable  judgment 
while  I  waited  for  my  change,"  said  Esther,  with  a  hearty 
laugh.  "  I  think  we  had  better  give  up  our  adventure, 
hero  and  all,  Milly.  Your  sister  is  only  drawing  us  out 
in  order  to  make  us  feel  how  thoroughly  ridiculous  we 
have  been  afterwards." 

"No,"  said  Jane,  quite  gravely,"!  was  thinking  — 
thinking  how  oddly  such  chance  meetings  do  sometimes 
turn  out.  You  may  meet  this  stranger  some  day,  and 
know  him,  Miss  Fleming." 

"  As  you  met  Arthur  Peel,"  interrupted  Milly.  "  It 
was  in  a  railway  carriage  you  first  saw  each  other,  wasn't 
it?  And  then  you  stayed  with  him  in  the  same  house, 
and  then  it  all  came  on " 

«  Milly  ! " 

Millicent  Dashwood  was  never  conspicuously  watchful 
of  any  feelings  or  sufferings  save  her  own ;  but  the  mo- 
ment she  caught  sight  of  her  sister's  face  now,  she  be- 
came sensible  that  her  last  light  words  had  taken  effect 
too  deep.  Miss  Dash  wood's  cheeks  were  burning  red, 
her  lips  quivering. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  17 

"Do  think  of  what  you  say,  Milly,"  she  remarked,  very 
low.  You  are  so  heedless." 

"But  Esther  knows  nothing  about  Arthur  Peel,  Jenny. 
I  never  mentioned  it  before ;  and  besides,  it's  all  off  now." 

"  Milly,"  cried  Miss  Dashwood,  passionately,  "  I  beg  you 
will  be  silent.  I  do  not  choose  these  jests  — they  are  in 
bad  taste."  And  moving  abruptly  to  the  other  side  of  the 
carriage,  she  leaned  her  hot  face  towards  the  open  win- 
dow and  quite  away  from  her  two  companions'  scrutiny. 

Milliceut  went  on  silently  with  her  luncheon :  Esther 
mused. 

"  It  is  good  fun  to  laugh  at  the  man  to  whom  one  is  en- 
gaged," she  thought ;  "  but  bad  taste  even  to  speak  of 
some  love  affair  that  is  "all  off,"  and  about  which  one 
blushes  crimson.  How  glad  I  am  that  I  know  nothing 
of  the  world  !  " 

"  It  came  to  grief  about  money,  and  papa  would  not 
hear  of  it,"  whispered  Milly;  "and  Jane  liked  him  awful- 
ly —  that's  all.  Don't  look  so  solemn,  Esther." 

"  Milly,  I  am  sorry  for  your  sister." 

"  Sorry  for  her?  sorry  for  our  proud,  handsome  Jane  ?) 
She  would  not  thank  you  for  pitying  her." 

But  Millicent  was  mistaken.-     Miss  'Dashwood    caught 

o 

the  meaning  of  Esther's  low,  kind  words,  and  she  turned 
round  quickly  with  an  altered  and  a  softened  expression 
on  her  flushed  face. 

"  You  pity  me,  Miss  Fleming,"  she  said.  "  You  are  right 
—  I  need  it.  How  glad  I  should  be  to  meet  you  again  !  " 
she  went  on,  after  waiting  a  minute  or  two,  during  which 
Esther  made  no  response.  "  I  arn  sure  we  should  get  on 
together,  in  time.  You  don't  think  so,  Miss  Fleming : 
your  face  speaks  for  you.  You  don't  think  you  would 
care  for  any  further  acquaintance  with  such  an  unprinci- 
pled, heartless  character  as  mine?  " 

"I  never  thought  that,"  said  Esther  anything  like  shyly 


18  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

for  the  girl,  in  truth,  was  quite  unused  to  any  sudden  de- 
monstrations of  violent  attachment.  "  I  think  it  is  im- 
possible for  people  who  have  only  just  met  to  say  wheth- 
er they  will  get  on  together  or  not  on  further  acquaint- 
ance." 

"  So  like  our  dear,  wise,  old  Esther ! "  cried  Milly. 
"  You  see  you  can't  steal  her  from  me,  Jane.  She  is  my 
own  particular  friend>  and  means  to  continue  so.  We 
shall  write  each  other  two  long,  crossed  letters  *a  week, 
all  the  summer,  and  in  the  winter  meet  in  Bath,  and  be 
Damon  and  Pythias  again,  as  we  were  at  school." 

"  Young  ladies'  friendships  being  famed  for  their  powers 
of  endurance,"  remarked  Miss  Dash  wood,  who  had  quick- 
ly rallied  from  her  passing  touch  of  sentiment,  "  I  proph- 
esy that  in  six  weeks  the  letters  will  have  died  a  natural 
death,  and  that  by  the  winter  you  will  have  forgotten 
each  other." 

"  Not  so  bad  as  that,  I  think,"  said  Esther ;  "  I  never 
forget  any  one." 

"  What  a  disagreeable  faculty,"  remarked  Jane,  careless- 
ly. "  The  great  secret  of  happiness  in  life  is  to  forget 
everybody,  except  those  who  happen  to  be  amusing  one 
for  the  moment.  Milly,  dear,  it  is  time  to  begin  hunting 
out  our  thousand  and  one  parcels.  That  wretched  Bates 
stuffed  them  with  her  own  hands  into  every  impossible 
place  she  could  think  of." 

"  And  nothing  makes  papa  so  cross  as  to  see  heaps  of 
things  being  showered  upon  him  out  of  a  railway  car- 
riage," said  Milly.  "It  spoils  the  tableau  of  re-union. 
Esther,  by  the  way,  I  predict  that  you  will  fall  desperate- 
ly in  love  with  Colonel  Dashwood  the  moment  you  see 
him  :  all  young  ladies  do." 

And  Milly  was  right.  When  Colonel  Dashwood  came 
up  to  meet  his  daughters  at  the  Bath  Station,  Miss  Flem- 
ing thought  him  the  most  perfectly  charming  old  man  she 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  19 

had  ever  seen  in  her  life.  It  was  quite  impossible  that  a 
pere  noble  with  such  a  benevolent,  silvery  head,  and  who 
exclaimed,  "My  children!"  in  a  voice  of  such  honest, 
heartfelt  emotion,  could  have  a  single  mean,  false,  or  world- 
ly attribute  in  his  whole  composition. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ON     THE    COACH-BOX. 

THE  intelligent  reader  must  clearly  see  that  Esther 
Fleming  had  possessed  few  of  those  educational  advan- 
tages which,  in  this  generation,  make  most  young  persons 
so  profoundly  versed  in  life  long  before  the  time  that 
they  are  eighteen.  The  Shiboleth  of  girls  like  the  Dash- 
woods  was,  for  the  most  part,  unintelligible  to  her ;  and 
what  she  did  understand  of  it  was  little  to  her  taste. 
Nearly  all  the  eighteen  years  of  her  life  had  been  passed 
in  a  remote  village  in  one  of  the  wildest  parts  of  North 
Devonshire  ;  and,  until  the  last  six  months,  she  had  been 
profoundly  ignorant  even  of  the  rudiments  of  ordina- 
ary  young-lady  knowledge.  I  don't  by  this  mean  that 
she  was  uneducated  :  she  had,  on  the  contrary,  read  fewer, 
and  understood  more  books,  than  ninety-nine  "  finished  " 
young  women  out  of  a  hundred.  She  was  thoroughly 
competent  in  household  work ;  she  could  use  her  needle  ; 
she  had  learnt  facts,  at  first  hand,  concerning  all  the  com- 
mon things  of  nature.  She  was  well-educated,  if  by  ed- 
ucation one  means  the  process  that  is  to  fit,  not  unfit, 
young  -persons  for  the  life  that  lies  before  them.  But  in 
showy,  superficial  accomplishments  —  in  knowledge,  so 
called,  of  the  world  —  she  was,  as  Milly  Dash  wood  often 
declared,  deplorably,  heathenishly  deficient.  She  had 


20          THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 

never  been  to  a  ball;  she  did  not  know  the  financial  dif- 
ference between  elder  and  younger  sons ;  she  had  honest, 
romantic,  old-fashioned  notions  (poor  Esther !)  about  peo- 
ple always  being  in  love  with  the  people  they  married  ; 
she  had  never  read  any  French  book  but  "  Telamache  ;  " 
she  held  that  old  persons  ought  to  be  respected ;  she 
could  blush  —  she  could  feel  shy.  Her  six  months'  incar- 
ceration in  a  Kensington  boarding-school  had,  of  course, 
shown  her  what  a  great  number  of  prejudices  there  were 
for  her  to  overcome,  how  much  information  to  be  acquir- 
ed, if  she  ever  hoped  to  come  up  at  all  to  the  standard 
of  her  young  companions.  But  here  the  evil  of  these 
six  months'  probation  ended.  Strong,  healthy  natures  do 
not  take  infection  very  readily  from  weaker  ones.  And  in 
spite  of  her  close  friendship  with  Milly  Dash  wood,  and 
the  companionship  of  a  dozen  other  girls,  all  more  or  less 
well  made  up  in  mundane  experience,  Esther  Fleming  was 
bringing  back  just  the  same  honest,  simple  heart  to  her 
Devonshire  home,  this  bright  June  day,  as  she  had  carried 
with  her  when  she  quitted  it  last  in  the  month  of  January. 

"Be  sure  you  write  to  me  to-morrow,"  were  Millicent 
Dashwood's  last  words  to  her,  after  an  indefinite  number 
of  parting  kisses  ;  "  and  pray  give  my  love  to  cousin  Da- 
vid ;  and  mind  you  don't  think  any  more  of  that  fair- 
haired  Yiking,  Esther,  dear.  It  would  be  so  dreadful  if 
he  was  only  a  Wiltshire  farmer  after  all !  " 

Millicent,  like  many  other  very  lively,  good-tempered 
people,  had  a  knack  of  saying  something  not  perfectly 
agreeable  at  parting  from  her  friends ;  something  that, 
childish  and  unpremeditated  though  it  might  seem,  con- 
tained a  lurking  bitterness  at  bottom.  Jane,  on  the  other 
hand,  after  being  far  from  amiable  in  her  manner  to  Es- 
ther during  the  last  half-hoar  of  the  journey,  took  leave 
of  her  with  a  really  warm  hand-pressure,  and  with  a  few 
words  about  her  having  been  kind  to  Milly  at  school, 
which  went  straight  to  Esther's  heart. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          21 

"Poor  Jane  Dash  wood!  I  believe  hers  is  the  best 
character  of  the  two,"  she  thought,  when  she  had  seen 
the  last  of  their  two  bright  faces  on  the  Bath  platform. 
"  And  yet,  Jane's  will  be  the  most  ruined"  by  such  a  life 
as  they  seem  to  lead.  Milly  hasn't  depth  enough  to  be 
thoroughly  spoilt.  She  will  never  do  anything  very  good 
or  very  bad  while  she  lives.  Poor  Jane  !  I  should  like 
to  know  more  about  her  and  this  Arthur  Peel ;  and  I  do 
hope  she  will  marry  him,  and  not  Mr.  Chichester.  That 
was  not  a  nice  allusion  of  Miss  Milly's  to  Wiltshire  farm- 
ers. I  am  quite  sure  none  but  a  gentleman  could  speak 
as  that  young  man  spoke." 

From  which  soliloquy  you  have,  I  hope,  gathered,  rea- 
der, that  Esther  is  not  to  be  a  model  heroine  in  spite  of 
all  the  good  things  I  have  been  saying  of  her.  What 
model  heroine  would  be  annoyed  at  a  little  friendly  play- 
ful spite?  What  model  heroine  would  have  the  impro- 
priety to  vindicate,  even  to  herself,  a  good-looking  mem- 
ber of  the  other  sex,  of  whose  name,  not  to  say  station 
in  life,  she  was  wholly  ignorant? 

"  I  wish  I  could  find  out  the  truth  of  this  subject,"  pur- 
sued Miss  Fleming,  in  thought,  "  if  it  were  only  for  the 
sake  of  having  a  small  triumph  over  Milly.  What  a 
school-girl  I  have  become,  though,  to  care  about  such 
nonsense;  as  if  it  can  matter  in  the  least  to  me  whether 
that  fair-haired,  broad-shouldered  young  gentleman,  whom 
I  shall  never  see  again,  is  the  son  of  a  farmer  or  of  a 
bishop." 

Esther  drew  herself  up  in  imagination  at  the  bare  sup- 
position her  own  brain  had  hazarded ;  and,  I  have  no 
doubt,  would  have  forgotten  the  stranger's  existence  long 
before  she  reached  her  own  home  had  fate  and  the  exi- 
gencies of  railway  travelling  so  willed  it ;  but  at  Exeter 
she  happened  to  pass  and  repass  him  on  the  platform 
about  twenty-eight  times  while  waiting  for  the  North 


22  THE  ORDEAL  OF  WIVES. 

Devon  tram;  and  at  Barnstable  she  had  scarcely  taken 
her  place  outside  the  Lynton  coach  before  the  Viking 
himself  was  seated  opposite  her.  If  these  were  not  in- 
exorable workings  of  fate  what  else  were  they  ?  Esther 
took  no  trouble  to  contend  against  a  destiny  so  obviously 
forced  upon  her;  and  answered  in  a  very  cheerful  and 
unforbidding  manner  when  the  young  stranger  began 
some  of  those  meteorological  remarks  with  which  all 
Englishmen  find  it  easiest  to  get  over  the  first  or  inaugu- 
ral difficulties  of  chance-made  acquaintanceship. 

Never  having  myself  had  personal  intercourse  with  a 
Viking,  I  am,  of  course,  unable  to  say  whether  the  stran- 
ger bore,  or  did  not  bear,  upon  his  face  that  marked  hered- 
itary resemblance  which  Milly  Dashwood  had  made  out 
for  him.  He  was,  at  all  events,  a  fine,  handsome-looking, 
English  lad  —  well-grown,  sunburnt,  fair-haired,  with 
more  perhaps  of  vigorous  strength  and  health  than  of 
intellect  upon  his  face ;  but  with  an  open  smile  upon  his 
rather  large  mouth,  and  a  keen,  slightly  audacious  hardi- 
hood in  his  blue  eyes,  which  were  not  at  all  displeasing 
in  Miss  Fleming's  sight. 

"  I  am  sure  my  fishing-rod  is  in  your  way,"  he  remark- 
ed, when  as  much  had  been  got  out  of  the  weather  and 
the  immediate  neighborhood  of  Barnstable  as  was  possi- 
ble. "  Let  me  stow  it  away  down  here  —  there's  plenty 
of  room." 

"  Not  unless  you  wish  it  ground  to  impalpable  pow- 
der," interrupted  Esther,  glancing  as  she  spoke  at  the 
feet  of  a  huge  Devonshire  farmer  who  occupied  the  third 
place  in  the  seat.  "  I  am  not  in  the  least  inconvenienced. 
I  only  got  up  to  look  across  the  country  to  the  left.  It 
is  a  favorite  view  of  mine.  You  can  see  Lundy  on  a 
clear  bright  day,  but  the  sun  is  too  low  and  hazy  now." 

"  You  know  this  part  of  the  country,  then  ?  " 

"  I  have  lived  here  all  my  life,  sir,  until  the  last  six 
months." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  23 

"At  Lynton?" 

"  No,  among  the  Countisbury  Hills,  about  half-way 
between  the  valley  and  Exmoor. 

"  Rather  a  lonely  place  to  live  in,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  is  my  home  ;  and  North  Devonshire  is  often 
thought  the  most  beautiful  part  of  England,"  added  the 
girl  a  little  proudly. 

"  Ah !  so  I  hear,"  the  stranger  answered.  "  I  have 
never  myself  been  in  this  part  of  the  world  before." 

"  And  you  are  too  early  to  see  it  in  its  greatest  beauty 
now.  August  is  the  time  :  when  the  valleys  are  white 
with  the  harvest,  and  the  dwarf  furze  makes  the  combes 
and  hillsides  golden,  and  the  broad  moorlands  seem  all 
afire  with  one  grand  sweep  of  ruby  purple.  If  you  look 
straight  away  over  that  low  hill  upon  our  right  you  can 
catch  an  outlying  ridge  of  Exmoor  already.  Do  you 
see?" 

"  No,  not  exactly,"  replied  the  young  man,  whose  eyes 
happened  to  be  fixed  at  that  moment  upon  Esther's  own 
profile.  "  I  am  rather  near-sighted." 

"You  will  have  a  better  view  a  mile  or  two  further  on. 
Don't  you  like  travelling  outside  a  coach  ?  " 

"  Yes,  under  some  circumstances.  I  have  not  been  on 
one  since  I  was  a  schoolboy." 

"  Which  must  be  a  great  many  years  ago,"  thought 
Esther,  glancing  shyly  at  the  fresh  face.  "  I  hope  you, 
too,  are  not  going  to  turn  out  wearied  of  everything 
'blaze,'  as  the  Dash  woods  call  it." 

"  You  are  accustomed  to  coaches,  no  doubt,"  went  on 
the  stranger,  who  seemed  determined  not  to  let  the  con- 
versation stand  still.  "I  suppose  they  are  still  an  ac- 
knowledged institution  in  these  primitive  regions  ?  " 

"  Our  country  is  too  grand  for  railways,  sir.  When 
you  see  —  I  mean,"  coloring  a  little,  "  if  you  ever  see  the 
hills  about  our  house  you  will  say  that  we  can  safely  defy 


24  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

the  best  engineers  in  the  world.  What  a  nice  cold  breeze 
is  coming  up  from  the  north  !  doesn't  it  seem  like  anoth- 
er world  after  that  stifling,  heated  air  of  London  ?  John 
Hartman,"  leaning  over,  and  speaking  to  the  coachman, 
"  what  sort  of  weather  has  it  been  at  home  this  spring  ?  " 
<  "  Main  fine,  Miss  Esther,"  answered  John  Hartman,  in 
r  great  cheery  voice,  and  turning  round  a  red  face  smooth 
&s  a  cider-apple ;  "  dry  and  open  for  the  sowing,  and  wet 
from  first  o'  March  up  to  Easter.  The  hay's  down  to 
farmer  Litson's  already,  Miss  Esther." 

"  And  more  fule  he ! "  remarked  the  gentleman  with 
the  feet,  sententiously. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Vellicot  ?  "  asked  Esther,  to  whom  all  the 
red,  jolly  faces  on  the  coach  were  evidently  familiar  ones. 
"  Why  shouldn't  Litson  cut  his  hay  when  he  likes  ?  " 

"  I  never  said  he  weren't  to  cut  it,  Miss  Fleming ;  I 
said  he  were  a  fule  for  cutting  it."  And  Mr.  Vellicot 
pointed,  with  a  significant,  colossal  finger,  towards  a  dis- 
tant line  of  intensely  blue  uplands  on  the  right. 

"  Ah,  there  is  Exmoor,"  said  Esther  to  the  stranger ; 
"  and  our  seeing  it  so  plainly  now  is  a  sign  that  we  shall 
have  rain  by  to-morrow.  Such  rain  we  have  here!  I 
don't  think  drops  of  the  same  size  fall  in  any  other  place 
in  the  world.  You  get  wet  through  in  about  a  minute 
and  a  half." 

"  What  a  charming  climate  it  must  be !  Bitterly  cold, 
as  far  as  I  understand  our  friend  in  front,  until  March ; 
rain  for  the  remainder  of  the  spring ;  and  daily  showers 
that  wet  you  through  in  a  minute  and  a  half  in  summer. " 

"  Oh,  but  sportsmen  don't  care  for  getting  wet,"  said 
Esther,  laughing.  "  And  you  know  the  fish  always  rise 
best  after  rain.  Is  there  good  sport  this  season,  Mr.  Yel- 
licot?" 

"  Depends  on  what  folk  reckon  sport,"  replied  the  farm- 
er, laconically. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  25 

"  Well,  are  there  many  fish,  I  mean?  " 

"  Yes,  there  be  fish,  Miss  Fleming." 

"And  don't  they  rise?" 

"They  do  to  them  they  knows,"  said  Mr.  Yell ioot, look- 
ing with  stolid  sarcasm  at  his  young  .neighbor's  bran  new 
and  elaborately-scientific  London  rod.  "Though  there's 
scores  of  strangers  already  a-lashing  and  a-fuling  about 
the  fish,  Master  David  killed  four  brace  last  Monday." 

"  He  did  better  than  that,  end  of  May,  'fore  the  visitors 
come,"  begun  the  coachman ;  then  a  sudden  recollec- 
tion of  the  indelicacy  of  the  remark,  or  of  the  possible 
half  crown  he  was  risking,  seemed  to  overcome  him,  and 
he  corrected  himself;  "before  the  weather  turned  off  so 
dry.  Mrs.  Engleheart  be  looking  spracker  than  ever  this 
spring,  Miss  Esther,  and  Miss  Joan  the  same." 

"  And  Mr.  David  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Master  David,  he  keeps  much  as  usual  —  much 
as  usual,  Miss  Esther,  thank  ye." 

"  Will  he  be  at  the  mill  to  meet  me,  do  you  think, 
John  ?  " 

"Not  much  fear  of  that,"  remarked  the  farmer.  "Pie 
were  up  to  our  house  last  night  in  the'  dark,  Mr.  David 
were,  after  a  pair  of  young  pigeons  for  you,  Miss  Fleming." 
And  Mr.  Yellicot  followed  up  this  information  with  a 
far-off  smothered  sound  which,  when  it  first  left  its  des- 
tination, might  possibly  have  been  intended  by  its  origin- 
ator for  a  laugh. 

Miss  Fleming  received  the  intelligence  without  the 
faintest  symptom  of  embarrassment ;  but  the  young  strang- 
er, nevertheless  conceived  an  instant  dislike  towards  this 
unknown  David.  The  male  cousins  of  very  pretty  girls 
are  always  objectionable.  David,  with  his  pastoral  gal- 
lantries of  young  pigeons  and  wayside  trysts  at  mills, 
was,  no  doubt,  some  red-cheeked,  rustic  fool,  to  whom 
this  young  womnn  had  been  engaged  since  she  was  seven 
2 


26         THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 

years  old.  She  was  not  so  very  handsome,  after  all,  when 
you  got  accustomed  to  her  face  ;  and  her  hands  were  aw- 
fully sunburnt,  although  tolerably  well  shaped. 

"Does  the  coach  pass  close  to  your  house?"  he  asked 
her  in  a  very  fine-gentleman  and  patronizing  manner 
"  I  suppose  we  are  getting  near  Lynton  now." 

"  We  are  still  four  miles  away  from  Lynton,"  answered 
Esther,  utterly  indifferent  to  any  change  in  his  manner 
"  and  nearly  as  far  from  my  home,  which  lies  among  the 
Countisbury  hills,  straight  away  before  us.  But  I  shall 
get  down  when  we  reach  the  valley  that  you  see  yonder  ;  " 
and  she  pointed  down  a  steep,  leafy  chasm  close  beside 
the  road,  through  which  the  distant  roar  of  unseen  waters 
could  be  heard.  "  The  mill  down  below  is  the  nearest 
point  to  my  home,  and  the  rest  of  the  way  I  shall  walk." 

"  With  cousin  David,"  thought  the  stranger  promptly. 
"Philomel  and  Baucis,  Chloe  and  Strephon,  among  the 
woods."  And,  although  he  had  just  decided  that  Esther 
possessed  very  few  personal  attractions,  he  remained  un- 
commonly silent  during  the  next  quarter  of  an  hour. 
This  travelling  outside  a  coach,  after  all,  was  frightfully 
boring  work;  particularly  when  the  close  neighborhood 
of  a  young  and  loquacious  woman  made  it  imperative  on 
one's  own  sense  of  gallantry  not  to  smoke. 

"  There  he  is  !"  cried  Esther,  in  immense  excitement, 
as  a  sudden  turn  of  the  road  brought  them  to  the  bottom 
of  the  hill ;  and  the  coachman  pulled  up  close  beside  a 
little  mouldering  foot-plank  across  the  river.  "  There  is 
David,  standing  on  the  bridge  !  Good-bye,  Mr.  Yellicot ; 
love  to  Maggie,  and  tell  her  to  come  and  see  me  soon. 
Good  evening,  sir,"  and  she  turned  with  a  shy  but  not 
ungraceful  salutation  to  the  stranger.  "  I  hope  you  will 
have  good  sport,  and  like  our  country  when  you  come  to 
know  it  better." 

But  the  young  man's  eyes  were  intently  fixed  on  a 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  27 

most  remarkable-looking  figure  which,  too  diffident  as  it 
seemed  to  approach  nearer,  was  standing  in  an  attitude 
ludicrously  expressive  at  once  of  unbounded  delight  and 
utter  helplessness,  upon  the  little  bridge.  Cousin  David, 
then,  was  no  fair-faced  handsome  lad  of  twenty ;  but  a 
man  of  grotesque  exterior,  with  a  loose,  slovenly  gait, 
with  long,  shambling  limbs,  with  a  vacuous  childish  face : 
a  man  of  almost  idiotic  manner,  and  of  middle  age.  How 
sweet  Miss  Fleming's  voice  broke  upon  him  with  its 
hearty  "Good  evening,"  just  as  he  attained  to  this  cul- 
minating point  of  his  investigation  !  What  a  beautiful, 
frank  face  it  was  that  turned  to  him  for  a  moment  before 
she  left  his  side ! 

"Good  evening.  I  —  I  perhaps  may  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  meeting  you  some  day  while  I  am  in  this  neighbor- 
hood?" And  he  actually  caught  himself — he,  a -man 
of  the  world  of  two-and-twenty  —  feeling  embarrassed 
under  the  girl's  steady  eyes. 

"  It  is  very  likely,  I  think.  I  often  go  out  fishing  with 
my  cousin."  And  then  Esther,  after  making  this  straight- 
forward reply,  blushed  rather  unnecessarily  as  the  strang- 
er offered  his  hand  to  assist  her  in  her  descent. 

Simple  though  she  was,  some  fine  intuition  had,  I  sup- 
pose, instructed  her  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  young  man's 
altered  manner.  At  all  events,  her  eyes  drooped  beneath 
his,  and  during  the  half  minute  that  he  firmly  held  her 
hand  the  color  on  her  face  deepened  into  quite  a  guilty 
crimson.  Then  he  saw  how  wonderfully  handsome  that 
delicate,  dark  face  really  was :  beauty  is  so  much  height- 
ened by  its  consciousness  of  our  own  regard ;  and,  I  am 
forced  to  confess,  his  hand  lingered  a  moment  longer  than 
was  strictly  necessary  on  Miss  Fleming's,  while  he  aided 
her  descent  into  the  extended  arms  of  the  great  rosy 
country  girl,  who  stood  ready  to  receive  her. 

"Is  this  yours,  tu^  Miss  Fleming?  "  inquired  the  coach- 


28  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

man,  taking  out  a  small,  black  valise  from  the  inside  of 
the  coach,  where  he  was  struggling  after  Esther's  posses- 
sions among  the  objecta  membra  of  the  four  outraged  in- 
side passengers :  "  I  can't  make  more  than  seven  par- 
cels if  it  isn't." 

"  No  ;  that  is  mine,"  cried  the  young  stranger  ;  but,  I 
imagine,  without  deceitful  emphasis ;  for  Miss  Fleming's 
eyes  were  at  that  moment  engaged  in  reading  the  name 
upon  the  label;  "perhaps  this  is  the  missing  parcel." 
And  he  handed  down  Esther's  travelling  plaid,  which  in 
her  hurry  of  saying  good-bye  she  had  left  beside  him  on 
the  seat. 

She  thanked  him  with  a  smile  in  which,  naturally,  there 
was  a  whole  world  more  of  acquaintanceship  now  that 
she  had  learnt  his  name,  and  in  another  minute  John 
Hartman  was  on  the  box,  and  the  coach  had  started  to- 
wards Lynton. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A   MUSCULAR    HEROINE. 

THE  sinking  sun  was  shining,  warm  and  golden,  upo* 
the  farm  at  Countisbury  when  Esther  and  her  cousin  first 
caught  sight  of  it  from  the  valley. 

It  was  an  irregular,  low-built,  stone  house,  entirely 
hemmed  in  by  desolate  hills,  save  on  the  west,  where  the 
landscape  opened  by  a  wild  and  precipitous  ravine  into 
the  wooded  valley  of  the  Lynn :  its  only  approach  a  rug- 
ged moorland  track,  never  traversed  save  by  the  carts  of 
peat-cutters  or  herds  of  cattle  on  their  way  down  from 
the  moors :  its  only  neighbors  the  weird  and  giant  forms 
of  the  overhanging  barren  cliffs.  The  first  question  that 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  29 

an  indweller  of  towns  would  involuntarily  ask  himself  on 
seeing  it  was,  how  any  human  being  could  build  a  habit- 
ation in  such  a  spot  ?  the  second,  how  any  other  human 
being  could  choose  the  habitation,  when  built,  to  live  in  ? 
And  yet,  as  Esther  caught  the  first  glimpse  of  its  low,  gray 
walls  this  summer  evening,  it  came  upon  her  strongly 
that  she  had  seen  nothing  half  so  charming  as  her  own 

~  o 

home  during  the  six  months  she  had  been  away  from  it. 
The  rosy  white  of  the  blossoming  thorn  before  the  door ; 
the  lichened-pointed  roof  glowing  orange  in  the  sunset ; 
the  masses  of  delicate  grey  stone  upon  the  neighboring 
hill-side ;  the  fading  purple  of  the  moorlands  far  above 
—  all  smote  her  with  so  much  of  the  pathetic  clearness 
of  familiar  faces,  for  a  time  grown  unfamiliar,  that,  some- 
what to  her  companion's  embarrassment,  she  leaned  heav- 
ly  on  his  arm  just  when  they  reached  the  wicket  of  the 
garden ;  and  without  volunteering  any  explanation  what- 
ever of  her  reasons  for  doing  so,  began  to  cry. 

"  Don't,  if  you  please,  Esther,"  whispered  David  En- 
gleheart,  softly.  "  There  is  Joan  coming  out  of  the  house 
to  meet  us.  She  is  quite  sure  to  see  you  have  been  cry- 
ing, and  you  know  her  objection  to  teai;s." 

"I  can't  help  it,  David,  dear,"  said  Esther  ;  "  it  is  only 
out  of  joy  to  be  back  again  with  you.  Joan  herself 
couldn't  mind  that." 

However,  she  turned  aside  before  entering  the  garden 
gate ;  and  under  pretence  of  addressing  Patty,  who, 
weighed  down  by  the  portmanteau  and  all  other  parcels, 
was  walking  cheerily  beside  them,  managed  to  wipe 
away  every  trace  of  obnoxious  and  foolish  emotion  before 
Joan  Engleheart  came  up. 

"  Here  you  are,"  cried  a  voice,  not  so  much  loud  as 
persistently  strong  and  unmodulated  in  its  tones.  "  Half 
an  hour  behind  your  time,  at  least.  Patty,  girl,  don't 
carry  the  portmanteau  by  the  handles ;  it  drags  'em  to 
pieces.  Esther,  how  do  you  do?  you  look  pale." 


30  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

And  Miss  Joan  bestowed  what  she  doubtless  would 
herself  have  termed  a  kiss  upon  her  young  relation's  fore- 
head. It  felt  raoie  like  the  push  from  a  stick  or  other 
hard  material,  than  the  contact'  of  frail  flesh-and-blood 
lips ;  however,  since  Esther  had  been  accustomed  to  it  at 
intervals  from  her  infancy,  she  took  it  in  its  mystical  or 
figurative  meaning. 

"  How  is  Aunt  Engleheart,  Joan  ?  I  saw  Mr.  Yellicot 
on  the  coach,  and  he  and  John  Hartman  told  me  she  was 
looking  better  than  ever  this  summer.  What  do  you 
think?" 

"  My  mother  is  perfectly  well,"  replied  Miss  Joan.  It 
was  a  way  of  hers  always  to  answer  questions  by  making 
an  independent  statement  of  general  facts.  "  Yes "  or 
"no"  might  be  very  well  for  persons  who  allowed  them- 
selves to  be  led  by  others  in  conversation :  Miss  Joan 
was  not  going  to  be  led  by  others  in  anything.  "  My 
mother  is  well,  and  able  to  exert  herself  as  much  as  ever. 
What  other  affair  of  ours  did  Mr.  Vellicot  take  the  trouble 
to  express  his  opinion  about  ?  " 

"  Nothing  at  all,  Joan,  except "  and  the  girl  turned 

round  with  a  smile  to  David ;  "  except  your  kindness  in 
getting  me  the  pigeons,  cousin.  I  have  so  often  wished 
for  some  nice  white  pigeons  like  Maggie's." 

David  blushed  in  a  manner  ludicrously  conscious  for  a 
man  of  his  age  and  appearance  :  Miss  Joan  gave  a  single 
and  by  no  means  pleasant-sounding  laugh.  "  Pigeons  !  " 
she  repeated,  with  an  emphatic  irony  that  seemed  to  re- 
double David's  confusion.  "  Pigeons !  I  think  I  see  them, 
picking  the  mortar  out  of  the  chimneys,  and  eating  my 
early  peas !  However,  I  needn't  alarm  myself.  None 
but  a  fool,  or  David  Engleheart,  would  think  of  full-fledg- 
ed pigeons  stopping  in  a  new  cot,  a  mile  away  from 
where  they  were  bred.  There's  only  one  way  to  keep 
them." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  31 

"  A  little  salt,"  suggested  David,  feebly.  "  I  have  heard 
if  a  little  salt  is  sprinkled  under  their  new  cot,  it  will 
make  them " 

"Rubbish!"  remarked  Joan  ;  "rubbish  !  Put  'em  in  a 
pie  and  eat  'em  ;  that's  the  only  thing  to  prevent  them 
flying  away.  Go  in  by  the  window,  Esther.  At  David's 
wish,  and  in  spite  of  my  mother's  rheumatism,  we  have 
had  the  tea  set  in  the  house-place  to-night." 

The  house-place  was  a  large  stone -flagged  room  in  the 
centre  of  the  building.  In  winter  it  was  horribly  cold, 
and  made  all  the  rest  of  the  house  cold  from  its  norther- 
ly aspect  and  ill-fitting  doors ;  but  for  three  months  of 
the  year  it  got  an  hour  or  two  of  warmth  and  light  at 
sunset,  and  from  the  time  when  Esther  was  a  little  child 
it  had  always  been  an  especial  jubilee  for  her  when  Miss 
Joan  would  allow  the  supper  to  be  placed  there  on  a 
summer  evening.  The  small  comfortable  sitting-room  to 
the  south,  which  the  elder  members  of  the  family  had 
the  good  sense  to  prefer,  possessed  no  charms  for  her  like 
the  grotesque  corners  and  closets,  the  huge  old-fashioned 
fire-place,  the  low  rafted  ceiling,  the  many-paned  lozeng- 
ed  windows  of  the  house-place :  and  slie  felt  duly  sensi- 
ble of  poor  David's  kindness  and  crafty  generalship  in 
having  tea  ready  for  her  there  on  this  first  evening  of  her 
return.  Miss  Joan,  herself,  had  no  taste  whatever  for  the 
picturesque ;  and  it  took  a  good  deal  of  argument  to 
bring  her  into  changing  any  of  the  routine  arrangements 
of  the  household.  And  no  one  knew  better  than  Esther 
what  it  was  to  argue  with  Miss  Engleheart. 

At  the  present  moment,  however,  with  the  rich  rays 
of  the  level  sun  streaming  through  the  open  window  — 
transmuting  its  odorous  frame  of  roses  into  gold,  and 
lighting  up  the  oak-panneled  walls  into  ruddiest  orange- 
brown  —  even  Miss  Joan  herself  could  not  accuse  the 
house-place  of  looking  chill  or  gloomy.  To  Esther,  fol- 


32  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

lowing  upon  the  horrible  gentility  of  her  Kensington 
school-room,  the  hearty,  homely  look  of  the  old  house  was 
like  going  back  to  the  familiar  enchantment  of  a  fairy 
story,  after  the  chilling,  although  improving,  atmosphere 
of  Hangnail's  Questions.  She  could  scarcely  believe  that 
she  had  been  enjoying  the  first  advantages  of  Kensing- 
ton Gravel-pits  for  six  long  months.  Miss  Bates,  and  all 
belonging  to  her,  seemed  a  bad  dream.  The  old  house- 
place  in  the  setting  sun,  David's  kind  face,  Miss  Joan  her- 
self, were  the  pleasant  home  realities  to  which  she  was 
awakening. 

A  reality  of  a  very  forcible  nature  Joan  Englehart  un- 
doubtedly was.  If  muscular  heroines  happen  to  come 
into  fashion  during  the  present  generation,  her  form 
would,  I  am  sure,  serve  as  a  perfect  model  for  any  novel- 
ist bent  upon  pleasing  the  popular  taste  to  draw  from. 
Strong,  sharp,  and  spare,  there  was  not  an  ounce  of  super- 
fluous flesh  on  her  body.  Muscles,  bones,  a  tough  out- 
side covering  of  dark  skin,  indomitable  eyes,  and  a  gen- 
eral stoniness  of  feature,  were  her  leading  and  character- 
istic charms.  She  looked  like  a  woman,  who  having 
found  life  unpleasant,  had  every  intention  of  making 
other  people  share  her  own  opinion :  and  such  was,  in 
truth,  the  key-note  of  her  character.  Human  creatures, 
as  a  general  rule,  are  not  hard  and  angular  merely  that 
they  may  make  amusing  studies  for  other  human  crea- 
tures to  speak  or  write  about,  but  because  untoward  acci- 
dents have,  at  one  time  or  another,  beaten  and  crushed 
them  into  their  angularity.  Doubtless,  when  she  was  a 
baby,  Miss  Joan  had  the  roundness  of  soul  and  body 
which  it  is  normal  for  the  young  of  our  species  to  possess 
during  the  first  two  years  of  existence;  doubtless,  as  a 
child,  she  had  enjoyed  mischief  and  sweet  food  like  other 
children:  as  a  young  girl  —  no,  a  young  girl  she  never 
was !  Before  she  was  sixteen,  Joan  Engleheart  knew  that 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  33 

her  lot  had  fallen  upon  hard  and  barren  places ;  that  she 
was  plain,  ungraceful,  reputed  sullen,  and,  worse  than  all 
—  poor.  From  that  time  until  the  present  —  how  many 
gray,  cold,  bitter  years  that  period  embraced,  she,  herself, 
only  knew  !  Joan  Engleheart,  soul  and  body,  had  been 
progressing  in  the  process  of  ossification.  When  Esther 
was  little,  she  used  to  beg  to  be  whipt  with  a  rod  instead 
of  Miss  Joan's  fingers ;  "  they  stung  so."  And  this  pe- 
culiar stinging  property  belonged « quite  as  much  to  her 
heart  and  tongue  as  to  her  fingers.  "  Life  is  too  short  to 
attend  to  such  fiddle-faddles,"  she  used  to  say,  when  any 
one  writhed,  visibly,  under  her  bitter  home-truths.  "  Del- 
icate discrimination,  fine  sensibilities !  does  any  one  get 
on  better  in  the  world  for  possessing  such  a  mighty  thin 
skin,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  Certainly  not.  Then,  why 
should  I  lose  my  time  in  trying  to  avoid  pricking  it  ? 
No  one  ever  tried  to  avoid  hurting  me,  and,  I  am  thank- 
ful to  say,  no  one  could  hurt  me  if  they  wished.  Life  is 
a  battle :  let  every  one  make  use  of  their  own  arms'  in 
fighting  it.  Mine  are  not  flowers  of  speech  and  flattery." 
Certainly  they  were  not.  If  the  opinion  be  true,  that 
to  be  utterly  disagreeable  is  to  be  a  fine  character  —  Joan 
Engleheart's  was  a  noble  one.  She  was  wonderfully  dis- 
agreeable. She  did  everything  against  which  human  na- 
ture ordinarily  revolts.  She  rose  at  unearthly  hours  in 
the  depth  of  winter.  She  could  sit  without  winking 
through  the  longest  sermons,  and  afterwards  repeat  them, 
verbatim,  to  her  family  in  the  evening.  She,  voluntarily, 
was  treasurer  of  a  clothing-club.  She  never  forgot  dates. 
She  was  always  willing  to  break  bad  news  to  any  one : 
fond  of  cold  water,  of  training  young  servants,  and  giving 
servants  notice,  and  keeping  accounts,  and  detecting  mis- 
takes in  bills,  and,  generally,  hurting  the  feelings  and  tak- 
ing down  the  self-esteem  of  every  person  with  whom  she 
came  in  contact.  Such  words  as  the  "  Battle  of  Life  " 
2* 


34         THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 

contained  no  metaphor  for  her.  Her  whole  life  was  a 
battle.  All  the  sordid  struggles,  all  the  hard  exertion, 
which  frail  human  nature,  in  its  unregenerate  condition 
seeks  to  evade,  Miss  Joan  met  half-way  —  nay,  seemed  to 
court  with  warmth  ;  as  though  she  knew  that  her  nature 
derived  vigor  from  every  fresh  buffeting  she  had  to  en- 
counter. Poor  David  said  it  made  him  tired  to  look  at 
her,  there  was  such  a  fearful  amount  of  spiteful,  iron  en- 
ergy written  on  her  whole  appearance.  And  her  moral 
nature  was,  of  a  truth,  in  strictest  accordance  with  her 
hard,  relentless  face.  To  the  persons  she  loved  —  and 
she  did  love  two  or  three  persons  in  the  world  —  Miss 
Joan  never  made  what  the  wildest  imagination  could 
call  a  pleasant  speech.  She  would  nurse  them  with  grim 
fidelity  if  they  were  sick;  would  sit  up  with  them,  night 
after  night;  would  physic  them, blister  them,  bleed  them, 
close  their  eyelids,  if  necessary,  with  unerring  nerve  and 
fortitude.  But  not  at  the  very  portals  of  death  itself 
would  she  have  softened.  About  once  a  year  she  was  in 
the  habit  of  taking  cold  —  a  vindictive  cruel  species  of 
cold,  quite  peculiar  to  her  own  organization  ;  and  the 
sight  of  Miss  Joan,  with  her  red  and  tearful  eyes^used 
quite  to  awe  all  the  other  members  of  the  family  on  these 
occasions.  If  poor  David  had  suddenly  made  a  witty 
speech,  the  phenomenon  would  not  have  been  more 
strange  and  disconcerting  than  was  the  unwonted  ap- 
pearance of  softening  or  tears  within  Miss  Engleheart's 
eyes. 

So,  at  the  first  moment  of  her  return,  Esther  only  felt 
that  Joan's  face  was  something  natural,  homely,  and  fa- 
miliar, and  never  missed  from  it  the  kindly  affectionate 
smile  with  which  David  had  welcomed  her.  "  Home  looks 
so  bright  and  comfortable,  Joan,"  she  cried,  as  together 
they  entered  the  house-place,  where  the  best  tea-service 
and  old  Mrs.  Engleheart  were  awaiting  them. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  35 

"  Dear  aunt,  how  kind  of  you  to  have  everything  in 
such  nice  order  for  me !  You  are  looking  better  than 
ever."  And  she  ran  up  and  threw  her  arms  in  her  hearty 
way  round  Mrs.  Engleheart's  neck. 

"You  look  chilled,  mother,"  remarked  Miss  Joan,  with 
her  own  happy  knack  of  being  as  crushing  as  every  occa- 
sion permitted.  "  Put  on  my  clogs,  immediately.  David, 
I  will  trouble  you  to  shut  the  window  while  Esther  helps 
me  to  carry  up  the  luggage.  Patty,"  addressing  the  girl 
who  with  round  eager  e^es  was  staring  into  Esther's  face, 
"  why  are  you  not  seeing  to  the  kettle  ?  You  idiot !  " 

Mrs.  Engleheart  —  a  very  passive,  poverty-bowed  wo- 
man of  nearly  eighty  —  had  never  for  the  last  quarter  of 
a  century  disputed  a  single  fiat  of  Joan's,  and  meekly  did 
as  she  was  desired  at  once ;  but  David,  who  rarely  re- 
belled on  small  occasions,  hesitated.  "  The  air  is  so  warm, 
Joan,  and  the  smell  of  the  hawthorns  must  be  such  a  treat 
to  Esther." 

"  Which  is  of  such  extreme  importance  compared  to 
my  mother's  rheumatism,"  remarked  Joan,  bristling. 

"  Oh,  I  think  it  is  quite  time  to  shut  the  window,"  cried 
the  girl,  quickly.  The  air  always  gets  chill  at  sunset. 
What  lovely  strawberries,  Joan.  I  liave  not  tasted  a 
strawberry  yet  this  summer.  Are  they  from  our  own 
garden?" 

"  We  always  send  to  Exeter  for  our  forced  fruits,"  re- 
marked Miss  Joan.  "Persons  in  our  position  can't  wait 
for  the  sun's  plebeian  operation  like  common  folk." 

Notwithstanding  which  gentle  irony,  Miss  Joan  felt  as 
much  mollified  as  it  was  possible  for  her  ever  to  feel.  A 
compliment  to  her  garden  or  her  household  was  the  one 
thing  that,  at  times,  could  turn  aside  the  sharp  edge  of 
her  temper  ;  and  the  sunshine  of  Esther's  face,  her  radi- 
ant, childish  happiness  at  returning  home,  were  influences 
that  even  Joan  found  it  impossible  quite  to  withstand. 


36  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"You  have  not  grown,  child,  and  I  don't  think  that 
you  have  improved,"  was  the  remark,  with  whicli  she  tes- 
tified to  her  softened  spirit,  when  they  were  all  seated 
round  the  tea-table.  "  It  is  to  be  hoped  Aunt  Thalia's 
fifty  pounds  have  done  more  for  your  mental,  than  they 
have  for  your  bodily  development." 

"Not  much,  I  am  afraid,"  answered  Esther.  "I  have 
forgotten  some  of  the  things  I  knew  when  I  went  to 
school,  and  have  not  learnt  very  much  in  their  place. 
T  suppose  I  was  too  old  to  be  finished,  or  else  that  finish- 
ing can't  be  done  in  six  months.  Perhaps  I  play  the 
piano  a  very  little  better  than  I  did  when  I  went,  and  I 
have  certainly  learnt  to  dance.  For  the  rest " 

"You  dress  your  hair  much  neater  than  you  used, 
Esther,"  said  old  Mrs.  Engleheart,  who  seldom  heard 
more  than  Joan's  very  high  notes  in  any  conversation 
"David,  dont  you  think  the  child  a  vast  deal  improved  in 
her  looks  ?  " 

David  was,  undoubtedly,  in  a  position  to  pronounce  a 
competent  judgment,  his  eyes  being  fixed  straight  upon 
the  "  child's  "  face  as  she  sat,  not  in,  but  scarce  apart  from 
the  yellow  sunlight,  which,  partially  intercepted  by  the 
waving  thorn-boughs,  threw  a  mosaic  of  fantastic,  softly- 
changing  lights  upon  the  wall  above  her  head.  But  the 
old  lady  had  to  repeat  the  question  twice  before  he  was 
aroused  from  his  own  thoughts ;  and  then,  instead  of  an- 
swering promptly,  he  colored  up,  and  smiled  and  rubbed 
his  huge  hands,  and,  finally,  delivered  himself  to  the  effect 
that  he  believed — meant  he  rather  thought  —  Esther 
was  grown." 

"  Not  an  inch,"  said  Joan,  decisively.  "  Young  women 
never  do  grow  after  seventeen.  I  was  as  tall  and  well- 
knit  at  fourteen  as  lam  now.  Esther  has  got  pads  in 
her  hair,  which  makes  her  head  look  bigger :  that's  all. 
Talking  of  pads,  Esther,  what  do  you  think  of  Patty  Sim- 
mons?" 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  37 

"  She  has  improved  wonderfully,  Joan.  You  are  mak- 
ing quite  a  good  servant  of  her.  What  has  become  of 
William  Tillyer  ?  I  remember  at  Christmas,  Patty  thought 
herself  engaged  to  him." 

"  Engaged  !  "  repeated  Joan.  "  He  !  he  !  "  —  actually 
she,  Joan  Engleheart,  laughed.  "  A  girl  of  mine  engaged  ! 
Well,  she  is  disengaged  long  ago,  I  can  assure  you." 

All  servant-girls  were  sources  of  genial,  vital  refresh- 
ment to  the  unflagging  energies  of  Miss  Joan's  mind,  but 
a  servant-girl  with  a  lover  was  a  perfect  well-spring  to 
her.  Waking  or  sleeping,  a  young  woman  thus  situated 
gave  her,  so  to  speak,  a  new  spite  in  life.  The  bowlings 
of  midnight  winter  blasts  she  took  for  whistles  of  assigna- 
tion demanding  her  own  immediate  presence,  in  a  flannel 
jacket  and  clogs,  outside  the  house-door.  The  crowing 
of  Farmer  Vellrcot's  cocks  at  sunrise  startled  her  into  sud- 
den action  from  her  bed  with  the  well-known  war-whoop 
"There  he  is!"  on  her  lips.  Miserable  though  she  was 
when  inactive,  she  would  stand  in  ambush  for  a  wrhole 
summer  evening  behind  one  of  the  garden  trees,  never 
moving,  and  scarcely  breathing,  until  that  intensely  longed 
for  moment  came,  when  she  could  pounce  upon  the  lov- 
ers, and  shame  and  trample  upon  the  man  to  his  face,  and 
drive  the  frail,  detected  Molly  before  her,  with  bitterest 
degradation  and  contumely,  to  the  house.  No  servant  could 
outwit  her:  nothing- could  escape  her.  Lovers  and  brok- 
en crockery,  flaws  in  the  character  and  in  the  tea  cups, 
were  alike  brought  to  light  by  her  unsleeping  vigilance. 
I  believe  she  would  have  scented  a  "  grease  pot,"  that 
ne  plus  ultra  of  domestic  infamy,  quicker  than  any  other 
woman  in  Europe.  She  saw  villarious  plots  in  every  one 
of  the  servants'  actions,  and  accomplices  in  every  one  of 
their  relations.  Once,  years  ago,  when  they  first  came  to 
Counlisbury,  an  old  man  —  the  grandfather  of  the  Molly 
for  the  time  being  —  came  and  asked  in  a  deprecating 


38  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

voice  if  he  might  have  "  the  wash."  I  wish  you  could 
have  seen  Miss  Joan's  smile :  she  only  smiled  in  reply. 
As  if  such  a  woman  as  herself  ever  had  "  a  wash ;  "  orf 
if  she  had  had,  would  have  encouraged  old  men  who 
wanted  "  washes"  about  the  house? 

"  Yes,  Esther,  I  got  rid  of  William  Tillyer  on  quite  a 
new  principle,  and  one  that  I  mean  to  adopt  for  the  future. 
4  Show  your  sweetheart  into  the  kitchen  the  next  evening 
he  comes,'  I  said  to  Patty :  '  I  like  all  these  things  to  be 
quite  open  and  above  board.'  Patty,  great  fool,  did  as 
she  was  bid,  and  I  went  out  and  found  them  there  togeth- 
er. '  You  are  coming  after  my  servant,  William  Tillyer,' 
I  said  ;  '  do  you  want  to  marry  her  ? '  Patty  signed  to 
him  to  say  '  Yes,'  and  he  said  it,  after  hanging  his  tongue 
out,  and  diving  in  his  pockets  for  an  answer  for  about 
five  minutes.  '  Very  well,'  I  remarked,  '  then  I'll  step 
up  to  Parson  Justin's  to-morrow,  and  you  shall  be  asked 
next  Sunday.  Good-night.'  I  wish  you  had  seen  his 
face,  Esther.  He  begged  and  prayed,  and  promised  he'd 
never  set  foot  inside  our  doors  if  I'd  only  let  him  off  that 
time.  This,  of  course,  was  what  I  wanted ;  and  since 
then  Patty  has  had  no  more  lovers." 

"  Poor  thing  !  "  said  David,  kindly.  "  And  she  really  is 
young,  and  not  ill-favored  to  look  upon." 

"  Oh,  David  thinks  it  very  hard  servants  should  not 
have  their  lovers  to  supper  every  evening,  and  wear  black 
velvet  tails  in  their  hair,  and  hoops  under  their  dirty 
gowns !  "  said  Joan,  with  kindling  eyes.  "  Esther,  will  you 
believe  me  that  Patty  wore  a  hoop  last  Easter  Sunday? 
I  had  my  eye  on  her  as  she  walked  down  the  aisle,  because 
I  suspected  her  of  having  pink  ribbons  inside  her  bonnet ; 
but  when  I  caught  sight  of  the  red  merino  skirt  shaking 
to  and  fro  about  her  feet  over  something  hard  and  angu- 
lar, it  quite  took  my  breath  away.  However,  I  followed 
her  out,  and  in  the  porch,  with  half  a  dozen  of  her  friends 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  39 

round  her,  I  twitched  up  her  skirts,  by  accident,  with  the 
hook  of  my  umbrella.  'You  have  been  at  my  hen-coop 
again,  then,  Patty,'  I  said,  very  kindly,  but  holding  up 
the  hoop  for  the  observation  of  all  her  friends,  among  whom 
I  remember  was  William  Tillyer's  new  sweetheart.  She 
cried  and  sulked  right  into  the  middle  of  the  next  week, 
but  has  been  less  strict  in  her  adherence  to  fashion  ever 
since." 

"  I  don't  think  servants  want  hoops,"  said  Esther,  laugh- 
ing ;  "  but  I  never  have  seen,  and  never  can  see,  why  they 
should  not  have  lovers." 

"  N"or  I,"  put  in  David,  boldly.  "  Here  you  have  poor, 
honest,  enduring,  obliging  creatures,  who  get  up  for  you 
at  horrible  hours  of  a  winter's  morning,  and  stay  out  of 
their  beds  late,  working  for  you  at  night,  and  yet  you  ex- 
pect them  to  give  up,  not  only  their  strength  and  their 
youth,  but  their  human  feeling  to  your  service.  It  is  too 
bad,  Joan.  Why  shouldn't  servants  have  lovers  ?  " 

"  Because  the  lovers  eat  my  bread  and  cheese  and  cold 
meat,  and  we  have  not  quite  two  hundred  a  year,  cousin," 
answered  Miss  Joan,  as  she  rose  from  table.  "  What 
makes  you  so  wonderfully  lenient  upon  lovers  all  at  once, 
David  ?  I  should  have  thought  it  was  a  subject  that,  at 
your  time  of  life,  you  might  have  ceased  to  trouble  your 
hfead  about." 

I  think  this  side-wind  disconcerted  David  Engleheart 
somewhat,  for  he  rushed  away  immediately,  and  began 
thrumming  a  very  mild  tune  upon  the  window-pane  with 
his  fingers,  which  was  an  invariable  sign  that  Miss  Joan 
was  "  telling  "  upon  him.  Esther  waited  until  Mrs.  En- 
gleheart and  her  daughter  had  betaken  themselves  to  the 
parlor,  where  Joan  nightly  inflicted  a  lengthened  process 
that  she  termed  "readings  "  upon  the  patient  old  lady  be- 
fore carrying  her  off  to  bed  ;  then  she  went,  softly,  up  to 
David's  side. 


40  THE  ORDEAL   FOR    WIVES. 

"  Cousin,  shall  we  go  out  in  the  garden  for  an  hour  ? 
I  long  to  see  hovvr  all  the  flowers  are  looking,  and  you 
have  not  had  your  evening  pipe  yet." 

He  turned  and  caught  her  hand,  fondly,  between  both 
his  own  enormous  ones.  "Dear  little  Esther!  how  glad 
I  am  to  have  you  back  again !  You  must  never  go  away 
again,  child !" 

"  No,  David." 

"Life  at  Countisbury  is  a  poor  —  a  wintry  affair  with- 
out you,  Esther.  The  first  really  warm  sun  I  have  felt, 
since  last  summer,  was  — just  at  the  moment  when  I  first 
caught  sight  of  you  on  the  coach.  You  were  smiling, 
Esther." 

"  ®h,  yes  !  Mr.  Yellicot  was  making  some  of  his  quaint 
remarks,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  quick  evasiveness  that  had 
never  entered  within  the  limits  of  her  narrow  mental  ex- 
periences until  that  moment.  "  I  remember  quite  well." 

"  But  it  was  not  Farmer  Vellicot  who  was  seated  next 
you,  Esther." 

"  No  ?  Who  was  it,  then  ?  Oh,  to  be  sure  !  I  recol- 
lect ; "  and  Miss  Fleming's  manner  became  wonderfully 
careless  and  indifferent.  "  That  was  a  stranger,  cousin 
David." 

"  Ah  !     You  don't  know  his  name,  of  course  ?  " 

"Well!  yes.  I  happened  —  I  did  not  want  to  know  it 
in  the  least — but  I  happened  to  see  the  direction  on  his 
luggage  as  I  was  getting  down  from  the  coach,  and  —  let 
us  go  into  the  garden,  cousin.  Everything  smells  so  sweet 
and  fresh,  and  the  stars  are  out  already." 

"  And  his  name  was?" 

"Oliver  Carew."  Esther  opened  the  window-latch, 
and  leaned  her  face  out,  doubtless  to  see  the  stars  more 
clearly. 

"Did  he  talk  to  you  much  on  the  road,  Esther?" 

"  Yes,  a  little.  He  has  come  here  to  fish;  and  I  told 
him  you  fished  —  and  so •" 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  41 

u  And  so,  no  doubt,  Mr.  Oliver  Carew  hopes  that  he 
will  meet  Miss  Fleming  again  ?  " 

"I  really  don't  know:  it  is  very  unimportant,"  she  an- 
swered; but,  notwithstanding  the  uncertain  light,  he 
could  see  the  color  rising  in  her  face.  "  Wait  one  min- 
ute, David  dear,  till  I  have  got  my  hat,  and  then  we  will 
have  one  of  our  nice  starlit  walks,  just  to  bring  us  back 
to  old  times."  And  she  left  him,  and  ran  upstairs  with 
all  her  accustomed  childish  spirits,  the  burthen  of  one  of 
the  familiar  childish  songs  that  he  had  taught  her,  upon 
her  lips. 

"  Changed,  changed  forever !  "  thought  David  Engle- 
heart.  "  I  ought  to  have  prepared  myself  for  this,  and  I 
didn't.  I  was  a  fool !  " 

And  a  sudden,  sharp  spasm  of  pain  struck  through 
poor  David's  simple  heart. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    FLEMING   BLOOD. 

I  FEEL  that  some  explanation  is  due  for  introducing  a 
family  of  persons  who  could  subsist  upon  less  than  two 
hundred  pounds  a  year  to  the  reader's  notice. 

I  have,  in  my  time,  read  many  stories  in  which  the 
painful  subject  of  poverty  was  treated  ;  but  have  mostly 
found  its  more  hideous  details  recorded  in  such  terms  as 
these : — "  The  pittance  of  five  hundred  a  year,  allowed 
him  by  his  uncle,  barely  sufficed  to  maintain  him  in  the 
common  decencies  of  life ;  "  or,  "  The  young  couple  be- 
gan their  happy,  but  frugal  mtnage  upon  the  interest  of 
the  bride's  twelve  thousand  pounds,  and  poor  Alger- 
non's pay  as  a  Lieutenant-Colonel."  Such  curious  ideas 
respecting  extreme  want,  do,  no  doubt,  arise  from  the 


42  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

circumstance  of  authorship  itself  being  such  a  lucrative 
craft :  indeed,  I  remember  in  one  old  fashionable  nov- 
el, an  authoress  remarking  that  she  intended  to  buy  a 
Cashmere  shawl  with  the  three  hundred  pounds  she 
should  get  for  her  next  slight  magazine  story  ;  and  what 
can  you  expect  but  figurative  starvation  from  a  lady  who 
realizes  a  thousand  or  so  per  annum,  by  knocking  off  flim- 
sy maga'zine  sketches,  and  subsequently  devotes  the  fruits 
of  her  genius  to  Cashmere  shawls?  But  I  think  even 
the  wealthiest  writers  should  recollect,  that  what  seems 
death  to  them,  may  be  life  to  other  men ;  and,  in  the  face 
of  the  very  highest  authorities,  I  will  maintain  that  there 
are  persons  living,  to  whom  five  hundred  a  year  seems 
a  large  fortune,  four  hundred  a  year  a  handsome  one, 
three  hundred  a  year  a  delicious  competency ;  and  who 
subsist  like  gentlemen  and  gentlewomen  upon  less  than 
two  hundred.  The  indelicacy  of  writing  that  last  figure 
really  staggers  me ;  for,  in  the  most  realistic  novel,  who 
ever  saw  decent  lay-poverty  done  at  less  than  three  hun- 
dred pounds  a  year?  But,  as  the  admission  has  fallen 
from  Miss  Joan's  own  lips,  so  it  shall  rest.  Yes,  I  abide 
by  the  fact.  The  Englehearts  lived  upon  the  objection- 
able sum  already  stated  and  lived  upon  it,  according  to 
the  ideas  of  simple  country  folk,  like  gentry. 

And  they  were  gentry,  both  by  birth  and  education  : 
the  only  two  qualifications  that  I  know  of  for  belonging 
to  that  rank.  They  kept  one  servant,  raised  from  the 
Sunday  School,  who  received  four  pounds  per  annum  in 
wages;  they  dressed,  winter  and  summer,  in  much  the 
same  style  as  they  had  done  when  they  first  came  to 
Countisbury,  fifteen  years  ago ;  and  as  there  was  no  hu- 
man creature  to  keep  up  appearances  before,  appearances, 
naturally,  were  never  attempted  to  be  kept  up.  But  here 
the  line  which  separated  the  inhabitants  of  the  farm  at 
Countisbury  from  the  small-genteel  of  towns  faded ;  or 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         43 

rather,  I  should  say,  came  out  in  broad  and  pleasant  reliet 
upon  the  Englehearts'  side,  and  in  their  favor.  They 
knew  none  of  those  piteous  self4mmiliations  —  those  pet- 
ty shifts  —  those  torturing  fears  which  are  the  meat  and 
drink  of  such  men  and  women  as  try  to  seem  that  which 
they  are  not  to  their  fellows.  They  never  try  to  invest 
their  quiet  house  with  the  grim,  galvanic  life  of  spurious 
gaiety;  they  never  sought  the  acquaintance  of  persons 
who  did  not  seek  to  know  them;  they  never  gave  a 
dinner-party !  Miss  Joan  had  a  kitchen-garden,  and  made 
it  pay :  Miss  Joan  kept  poultry,  and  made  them  pay, 
also  —  on  what  superhuman  system,  she  alone  knows. 
Their  house-rent  cost  them  about  twenty  pounds  a  year; 
their  dress  —  no,  the  thought  of  those  Cashmere  shawls,  of 
those  lucrative  fictions,  gets  the  better  of  me,  here.  I 
cannot  descend  to  any  more  of  those  fearful  details  of 
starvation.  I  apologize,  with  humility,  for  the  extent  in- 
to which  I  have  already  been  betrayed,  and  pass  on. 

Old  Mrs.  Engleheart  was  the  sister  of  Esther  Fleming's 
paternal  grandfather,  Colonel  Garratt  Fleming.  If  all 
the  family  sayings  about  this  Colonel  Fleming  were  true, 
his  personal  charms,  to  which  a  miniature  possessed  by 
Esther  bore  ample  witness,  were  more  conspicuous  than 
his  principles ;  or,  at  least,  than  his  worldly  wisdom  — 
but  the  terms  are  identical.  He  certainly  contrived  to 
get  through  a  very  considerable  estate  during  his  own 
lifetime,  and,  on  his  death,  left  his  son,  newly  married, 
arid  in  orders,  without  a  shilling.  I  dare  say  the  son 
troubled  himself  little  as  to  whether  his  poverty  had 
been  brought  about  through  the  goodness  or  badness 
of  the  paternal  disposition ;  but,  though  the  psychologi- 
cal nicety  did  not  disturb  him,  the  poverty  itself  was 
more  than  he  could  struggle  against.  A  living  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  year,  a  sickly  wife,  ill-health 
of  one's  own,  and  no  chance  of  preferment,  are  not  in- 


44  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

centives  to  life  for  a  man  reared  in  the  belief  that  his  path 
will  be  laid  among  the  pleasant  places  of  the  world.  Mr. 
Fleming  simply  succumbed  to  them  :  "  didn't  take  the 
trouble  to  live,"  his  cousin  Joan  said  of  him ;  and  six 
months  after  he  had  followed  his  wife  to  the  damp  church- 
yard from  the  damper  parsonage,  was  laid  to  rest  there 
\  imself. 

There  was  just  enough,  after  the  sale  of  his  books  and 
furniture,  to  pay  his  debts,  and  buy  his  little  daughter 
Esther,  aged  four  years,  a  black  frock.  And  then  arose 
the  question,  who  was  to  take  care  of  the  child  ?  Her 
mother,  in  accordance  with  a  peculiarity  of  nearly  all 
very  poor  persons,  had  had  numerous  relatives  when  she 
was  engaged  to  Garratt  Fleming's  reputed  heir,  but  had 
left  no  one  belonging  to  her  on  her  death;  or  no  one 
who  could  be  found,  or  no  one  who  wanted  to  adopt  an 
orphan  child.  On  her  father's  side  were  only  two  —  Mrs. 
Engleheart  and  Mrs.  Tudor:  both  elderly,  and  widowed 
sisters  of  the  handsome,  open-handed  (or  under-principled) 
Garratt  Fleming. 

Some  time  in  the  last  century  these  two  sisters  had 
been  notorious  west-country  beauties ;  and  many  were 
the  stories  conserved  by  old  Mrs.  Tudor  of  the  dead  gen- 
eration who  had  sighed  and  suffered  at  their  feet.  Mrs. 
Engleheart,  as  one  whose  charms  had  done  least  in  the 
world,  was  more  reticent  as  to  their  bygone  victories ; 
but  the  few  survivors  whose  memories  could  stretch 
back  fifty  years,  averred,  that,  in  her  youth,  her  beauty 
had  not  only  outshone  that  of  her  sister,  but  also  of  eve- 
ry other  woman  of  her  time  in  Bath.  However  this  may 
have  been,  she  had  married  for  love  and  without  money ; 
choosing  a  husband,  too,  very  much  of  the  same  stamp 
as  her  own  brother  Garratt.  Her  sister  had  married  not 
at  all  from  love,  but  with  money  ;  and  their  lives  having 
flowed  on  and  settled,  like  most  lives,  very  much  accord- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  45 

ing  to  the  bias  they  themselves  first  gave  to  them,  it  came 
to  pass  that,  when  their  nephew,  Henry  Fleming,  died, 
Mrs.  Tudor  was  living  in  great  comfort,  and  much  respect- 
ed in  Bath ;  Mrs.  Engleheart,  in  great  retirement,  and 
not  at  all  thought  of  by  anybody  in  North  Devonshire. 

It  was  out  of  the  question  that  a  Fleming  should  be 
brought  up  by  other  charity  than  that  of  her  own  people. 
But  then,  which  of  her  own  people  was  to  be  charitable? 
"  I  would  as  lief  have  a  monkey  in  my  house  as  a  child," 
wrote  Mrs.  Tudor  to  her  sister,  at  the  time  of  the  bereave- 
ment ;  "  and  Bath  don't  agree  with  children.  However, 
Garratt's  grandchild  must  be  maintained  by  the  family, 
and  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  I  will  give  thirty  pounds 
a  year  towards  keeping  her,  if  you  will  undertake  all 
the  rest.  Children  do  better  in  the  country  than  in 
towns,  and  Joan  can  work  out  some  of  her  educational 
crotchets  for  her  little  cousin's  benefit." 

And  so  it  was  settled.  Esther  Fleming,  at  the  age  of 
four,  came  to  the  charge  of  her  great-aunt  and  Miss  Joan 
at  Countisbury,  Mrs.  Tudor  agreeing  to  pay  them  the  sum 
of  thirty  pounds  a  year  until  the  age  of  twenty-one,  or 
marry. 

And  Joan  did  educate  her  charge  according  to  her  own 
theories,  and  educated  her  well.  "  Here  is  a  girl  who  will 
have  to  work  for  herself  one  day,  or  starve,  she  remarked 
once  to  her  mother,  when  the  old  lady  had  been  wishing 
accomplishments  for  Esther,  and  sighing  about  the  Flem- 
ing blood.  "  For  Heaven's  sake  let  us  put  away  all  such 
nonsensical  notions,  mother,  and  teach  her  to  be  useful." 
So  Esther's  attainments  all  became  of  the  most  solid  and 
tangible  description.  She  understood  everything  to  do 
with  housekeeping ;  she  could  work  thoroughly  with  her 
needle  ;  she  was  excellent  at  figures.  Above  all,  she  was 
trained  in  the  most  strict  compliance  with  physiological 
principles,  -at  which  Miss  Joan  was  great,  and  she  grew  up 


46          THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 

healthy,  strong,  self-reliant.  "  It  might  be  all  very  well," 
said  Joan  Engleheart,  "for  rich  people  to  bring  children 
up,  with  excited  brains  and  stunted  bodies.  Esther  won't 
want  a  hundred  and  fifty  diseased  nerves,  but  three  hun- 
dred and  seventy-five  stout  muscles,  when  she  has  to  earn 
her  own  living.  Let  every  one  cultivate  what  their  sta- 
tion in  life  will  hereafter  require  of  them." 

But  I  think,  in  spite  of  Joan's  physiology,  and  great 
common  sense,  the  child's  life  would  have  been  a  horribly 
dull  one,  had  it  not  been  for  another,  and  most  alien,  ele- 
ment in  the  household,  and  this  was  David  Engleheart. 
In  all  Esther's  punishments,  David  was  her  tower  of  refuge; 
in  all  her  childish  plays  he  was  her  companion.  She 
went  out  for  long  summer  days  with  him  while  he  fished ; 
she  read  with  him  in  winter.  Although  five-and-twenty 
years,  at  least  stood  between  them  in  age,  David  was  her 
companion  (except  during  the  last  six  months  at  school, 
and  her  short  visits,  at  rare  intervals,  to  Mrs.  Tudor  in 
Bath)  — the  only  companion  that  her  child's  life  had  ever 
known. 

David  was  a  nephew  of  Mrs.  Engleheart's  husband, 
and  being  early  intended  by  a  fond  mother  for  the  Church, 
on  account  of  what  she  called  his  beautiful  disposition, 
together  with  small  family  interest  in  the  way  of  prefer- 
ment, he  received  the  benefit  of  a  classical  education. 
Alas  for  the  frailty  of  human  hopes  !  The  beautiful  dis- 
position remained  ;  but  just  as  the  boy  was  leaving  school, 
the  expected  living  was  basely  given  to  the  patron's  own 
tutor's  son !  From  seven  to  seventeen,  David  had  been 
making  long  verses  and  short  verses,  and  scanning  Greek 
choruses,  and  gaining  sound  views  of  the  middle  voice, 
and  preterperfect  tense.  He  had  been  driven  to  despair 
by  gerunds ;  had  been  whipt  for  false  quantities ;  had 
turned  Milton  and  Dryden  into  iambics;  had  perfected 
himself  in  the  intrigues  of  the  whole  of  the  heathen  gods 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  47 

and  goddesses  ;  —  and  now  all  this  admirable  training  for 
parochial  duties  was  to  be  thrown  away !  His  mother 
thought  a  judgment  would  alight  on  their  relative,  the 
patron.  His  uncle  took  poor  David  into  a  very  close 
counting-house  upon  Ludgate  Hill. 

Here  he  remained,  without  any  particular  change  or 
promotion,  for  fifteen  years  —  nine  hours. of  sitting  at  a 
desk  daily,  for  fifteen  years  —  with  every  Sunday  to  him- 
self, and  Christmas  Day  and  Good  Friday  for  special  fes- 
tivals. At  the  end  of  this  time,  the  death  of  his  mother 
placed  him  in  possession  of  about  seventy  pounds  a  year, 
when  David  so  far  flew  in  the  face  of  Providence,  accord- 
ing to  his  uncle,  as  to  throw  up  his  clerkship  immediately, 
and  announce  his  intention  of  living,  for  the  future,  upon 
his  own  private  means. 

Whether  this  was  flying  in  the  face  of  Providence  or 
not,  I  am  incompetent  to  say,  as  I  am  quite  ignorant  of 
the  nature  of  this  kind  of  aeromatic  performance.  After 
being  stupefied  for  ten  years  at  school,  and  miserable  for 
fifteen  years  in  a  counting-house  —  five-and-twenty  years 
of  aggregate  misery  and  stupefaction  —  it  was  not  per- 
haps altogether  remarkable  in  David  to  catch  at  the  first 
chance  of  deliverance  from  bondage.  He  loathed  work, 
and  London,  and  his  cousin's  business,  and -his  cousin, 
himself.  He  had  visions  of  a  happy,  useless  life,  with  a 
fishing-rod  and  a  book,  among  green  trees  and  daisies. 
Was  his  first  duty  to  his  own  worn-out  jaded  brain  —  the 
brain  from  whence  he  once  dreamed  such  noble  thoughts 
should  charm  the  world  ;  or  to  the  guardianship  of  his 
cousin's  money-bags  ?  A  letter  from  his  aunt,  Mrs.  Engle- 
heart,  asking  him  to  visit  them  in  Devonshire,  turned  the 
balance  in  favor  of  poor  David's  own  prepossessions  ;  and 
one  bright  summer  morning  he  stepped  forth  a  free  man 
upon  Ludgate  Hill,  confused,  yet  tumultuously  happy,  un. 
der  the  mingled  sense  of  fortune  and  of  freedom,  and  only 


48  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

very  moderately  impressed  with  the  image  of  his  own 
base  ingratitude,  as  laid  before  him  by  his  cousin  at  part- 
ing. 

This  was  about  a  year  before  Esther  Fleming  was  taken 
to  her  aunt  Engleheart's  care ;  and  David  had  never  left 
Countisbury  since. 

"  I  came  for  three  weeks,  and  I  have  stopped  fifteen 
years,"  was  his  own  answer  when  Esther  happened  to 
question  him  once  about  the  antecedents  of  his  life.  "  Jo- 
an makes  my  money  go  farther  than  I  could  ever  do  my- 
self, and  my  little  room  is  very  warm  in  winter.  I  really 
don't  see  why  I  should  ever  go  away.  Seventy-five 
pounds  a  year  would  not  make  me  as  comfortable  any- 
where else  in  the  world  as  it  does  in  Countisbury." 

And  he  had  good  reasons  for  thinking  so.  Whatever 
concessions  to  human  frailty  Joan  Engleheart  ever  made 
were  for  her  cousin  David's  especial  and  exclusive  benefit. 
The  little  room  he  called  his  study  was  the  warmest  and 
best  tended  in  the  house  ;  the  flowers  he  loved  most  came 
into  early  bloom  beneath  its  windows ;  books  and  prints 
(bought  at  rare  intervals  out  of  Joan's  scanty  savings) 
were  on  its  walls.  All  his  favorite  belongings ;  his  pa- 
pers —  David  wrote  a  little  —  his  fishing  manufactory, 
his  drawings,  were  duly  dusted  by  Joan's  own  hand  every 
morning,  and  were  never  disarranged.  Above  all,  she  kept 
his  dress  neat  —  and  duly  to  appreciate  this  you  should 
have  seen  David  Engleheart's  figure  —  and  she  prevent- 
ed him  from  losing  his  money.  He  had  good  reasons  for 
saying  that  he  would  never  be  as  well  off  anywhere  else 
in  the  world  as  he  was  at  Countisbury. 

That  some  strong  counteracting  feeling  must  be  at 
work  within  Miss  Joan's  breast,  when  she  thus  violated 
the  laws  of  her  being  by  studying  the  weaknesses  of 
another  human  creature,  was  a  truth  that  the  first  fourteen 
years  and  a  half  of  his  residence  under  the  same  roof 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         49 

with  her  failed  to  impress  upon  David  Engleheart.  When 
he  thought  of  his  cousin  at  all,  it  was  as  of  a  species  of 
domestic  machine,  unpleasant  when  at  work,  but  thrifty 
and  comfort-producing  in  effect.  One  of  the  Dii penates, 
of  no  particular  age  or  sex,  who  often  disturbed  his  peace, 
but  to  whom,  in  consideration  of  clothes-mending  and 
other  economic  properties,  due  forbearance  ought  to  be 
shown,  with  regard  to  acidities  of  tongue  and  temper. 
"  Poor  Joan  !  "  That  an  awful  Nemesis,  Joan  Engleheart 
in  love,  should  one  day  be  avenged  upon  him  for  his  fif- 
teen years  of  acquiescent  supineness,  was  a  revelation 
that,  with  other  startling  truths,  had  only  burst  upon  Da- 
vid during  the  last  few  months  of  Esther's  absence  from 
home. 

What  a  Nemesis  it  was  !  The  poor  fellow  thought  he 
could  have  borne  the  ordinary  strokes  of  fortune  like  other 
men.  But  Joan  in  love!  He  was  not  an  ungrateful,  and 
he  was  not  a  bloodthirsty  man  ;  but  if,  just  at  this  partic- 
ular time,  he  had  been  told  that  Miss  Joan  had  come  to 
some  awful  and  sudden  end  I  think  it  would  not  have  tak- 
en David  Engleheart  very  long  to  rally  from  the  shock. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A   FORLORN    HOPE. 

THE  morning  after  Esther's  return  shone  out  bright 
and  cloudless,  and  by  nine  o'clock  she  and  David  were  al- 
ready starting  for  one  of  their  accustomed  day's 
among  the  valleys. 

"I  hope    the  fish   will  like  all  those   gay   colors," 
Joan's  parting  benison  at  the  garden  gate.     "You 
8 


50  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

extremely  ridiculous,  Esther,  and  I  really  cannot  apolo- 
gize for  saying  it." 

"  I  can  assure  you  it  is  quite  usual  for  people  to  wear 
their  skirts  looped  up,  David,"  said  the  girl,  when  they 
were  beyond  hearing  of  Joan.  "  Please  tell  me  if  you 
think  I  look  quite  ridiculous,  cousin  ?  " 

Miss  Fleming  was  dressed  in  a  shepherd's"  plaid  skirt 
and  jacket ;  the  former  looped  up,  according  to  the  fash- 
ion adjured  by  Miss  Engleheart,  so  as  to  show  a  violet- 
colored  petticoat  and  remarkably  neat,  high-heeled 
boots.  In  her  little  black  hat  she  had  stuck  a  single  dam- 
ask rose.  These  were  the  gaudy  colors.  "Do  I  look 
quite  ridiculous,  cousin  David  ?  Shall  I  frighten  the 
whole  of  the  fish  away  ?  " 

"That  must  depend  upon  the  taste  of  fishes,"  answered 
David,  rather  stupidly.  "I  don't  think  you  look  very 
bad  myself,  Esther,"  after  a  minute's  consideration.  *  "  You 
never  used  to  dress  in  this  fashionable  manner  when  you 
came  out  fishing  with  me  in  old  days.  What  have  you 
changed  for  ?  You  used  to  look  very  nice  in  your  cotton 
gowns." 

"And  pinafores.  Yes,  dear  cousin, but  I  am  not  a  little 
girl  now ;  besides,  I  must  wear  out  all  the  things  aunt 
Thalia  sent  me  at  school." 

"  Hang  aunt  Thalia ! "  remarked  David,  with  animation. 
"  No,  I  don't  wish  her  hung,  because  she  is  kind  to  you  ; 
but  hang  all  her  plans  for  making  you  into  a  fine  young 
lady,  and  upsetting  my  old  happy  life.  It  would  never 
have  happened  but  for  your  being  away, —  never." 

"  What  would  never  have  happened  ?  " 

"  Why,  my  seeing  through  her  intentions,"  and  David 
struck  his  rod,  with  feeble  energy,  on  the  ground.  "I 
rnight  have  gone  on  quietly  for  another  fifteen  years  as  I 
have  done  the  last.  While  I  suspected  nothing  I  was 
f  afe,  but  now  —  Oh,  Lord,  what  a  winter  it  has  been  alto- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  51 

gether,  Esther !  To  begin  with,  for  about  six  or  seven 
weeks, -I  was,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  dead." 

"Dead,  cousin  David  ?  " 

"  As  dead  as  a  man,  with  any  miserable  breath  left  in 
him  at  all,  and  with  Joan  in  the  house,  could  be.  I  be- 
lieve I  had  influenza  first,  or  rather,  I  don't  believe  it,  but 
Joan  said  so,  and  made  me  swallow  all  the  horriblest  corn- 
pounds  in  the  world  by  way  of  cure.  The  real  disease 
was  —  I  had  not  you,  Esther!  After  a  child  has  been  in  a 
a  house  for  fifteen  years,"  David  proceeded,  hastily,  "its 
absence  creates  a  singular  deadening,  depressing  sort  of 
blank.  I  didn't  want  to  do  anything,  or  be  anything,  I  didn't 
want  to  read,  or  to  eat  or  to  sleep.  I  think  I  should 
have  rather  liked  to  die,  peacefully,  but  that,  you 
know,  Joan  wouldn't  let  me  do.  She  gave  me  gruel,  and 
made  mustard  plasters  for  me,  and  tormented  me  prodi- 
giously, but  she  wouldn't  let  me  die.  More's  the  pity  !  " 

"  You  silly  old  David  !  " 

"  Oh,  Esther,  that  is  good  to  hear.  There  will  be  no  one 
to  laugh  at  me  like  that,  no  one  to  say,  '  You  silly  old 
David,'  when  —  when  you  are  married  and  gone !  " 

"You  superlatively  silly  old  David!"  cried  the  girl, 
with  her  merry,  heart-whole  laugh.  "  What  chance  have 
Joan  and  I  of  marrying,  I  should  like  to  know?  Tell  me 
how  you  came  out  of  this  seven  weeks'  influenza,  or  stu- 
por, and  please  don't  let  your  imagination  run  away  with 
you  in  such  an  unprincipled  manner.  Joan  nursed  you 
with  unremitting  tenderness  for  seven  weeks,  and  then?" 

"  Then  the  few  first  warm  days  of  spring  came,  and  I 
remembered  that  in  two  months  and  fourteen  days  you 
would  come  back  too  !  Joan  is  not  cheerful  as  a  rule,  in 
spring.  You  know  a  way  she  has  of  putting  one  down 
for  being  in  spirits  about  the  weather.  She  knows  wrhat 
these  unnatural  heats  lead  to.  She  knows  better  than  the 
birds  that  are  twittering  in  the  hedges.  The  blossom  will 


52  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

be  cut  off;  the  churchyard  full.  Well,  child,  even  Joan 
could  not  depress  me  when  I  had  once  laid  hold  of  that 
definite  idea  —  you  were  coming  back!  the  lengthening 
of  the  days  and  coming  out  of  the  leaves  had  a  new  inter- 
est for  me " 

"  And  you  took  to  your  books  and  your  pipe  again,  and 
recovered.  Oh,  cousin  David,  what  a  blessing  Joan  is  to 
you,  though  you  don't  know  it!  She  counteracts  you. 

"  She  does  indeed,  Esther." 

"And  that  is  just  what  you  want.  If  I  had  been  here, 
when  you  were  in  this  ossifying  state,  I  couldn't  have 
helped  pitying  you,  and  that  would  just  have  encouraged 
you  in  giving  in.  There  is  no  one  like  Joan  for  rousing 
people  out  of  themselves." 

"And  for  thinking  for  them,  and  acting  for  them,  and 
coercing  them,"  cried  David,  hotly.  "  Esther,"  after  a 
minute  or  two,  "  shall  I  tell  you  what  I  firmly  believe  will 
be  my  fate  ?  " 

"  What  ?  final  ossification  ?  " 

"  Much  worse  —  don't  laugh  if  you  please,  child  —  I 
couldn't  bear  it." 

"  I  am  not  laughing  in  the  least,  cousin,  I  am  extremely 
serious.  What  is  to  be  your  ultimate  fate  ?  " 

"I  believe  — "  David  stopped  as  still  as  it  was  in  his 
organization  to  be,  and  looked  utterly  desolate  and  stony 
—  "I  believe  that  Joan  will  marry  me." 

"  Cousin  David !  " 

"I  have  thought  so  more  than  once,  and  latterly  I  have 
dreamed  it  was  so." 

"  Salad  for  supper,  David  ?  " 

"  No,  child.  It  was  a  nightmare,  truly,  but  not  caused 
by  indigestion.  If  Joan  takes  anything  resolutely  in  hand 
ph'e  does  it,  either  at  the  end  of  months  or  years.  It  took 
her  many  years  to  make  me  scrape  my  shoes  every  time 
J  came  into  the  house,  but  she  succeeded,  and  so  she  will 
again." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  53 

"But  are  you  sure  she  has  set  her  mind  on  it,  and  —  oh, 
cousin  David,  do  you  class  marrying  Joan  and  scraping 
your  shoes  together  ?  Please  don't  be  angry  with  me  if 
I  laugh  —  I  can't  help  it !  "  And  the  despair  of  David's 
face,  and  his  perfect  belief  in  Joan's  unlimited  capabilities 
for  evil,  so  took  Esther's  fancy,  just  at  this  juncture,  that 
she  began,  in  truth,  to  laugh  like  a  child. 

"  Laugh  away,  Esther,  laugh  as  you  like  ! "  said  David  ; 
"I  could  do  the  same  myself.  Everything  horrible  in  real 
life  is  ridiculous  to  witness.  If  I  read  of  any  man  having 
a  woman  like  my  cousin  Joan  in  love  with  him,  I  might 
be  impressed  with  becoming  feelings  of  pity ;  but  the  re- 
ality, with  myself  as  victim,  does  seem  indeed  a  truly  lu- 
dicrous mockery."  And  here  poor  David  burst  into  a 
long  and  most  unearthly  laugh  over  the  image  of  his  own 
impending  calamity. 

But  there  was  a  painful  ring  in  his  laugh  that  jarred 
upon  Esther's  heart,  and  she  grew  serious  instantly. 
"  Come  away  to  the  Riven  Oak,  dear  David,"  she  said, 
laying  her  hand  kindly  upon  his  arm.  "  The  valley  will 
look  very  different  now  the  thorns  are  in  blossom  to  what 
it  did  on  that  dull  autumn  day  when  you  and  I  were  last 
here  together.  Come  away,  and  forget  all  your  own  silly 
thoughts  in  this  delicious  summer  day.  You  have  just 
got  hipped  and  out  of  sorts  and  afraid  of  Joan  because  I 
was  away  —  nothing  more.  You  will  have  no  time  to 
take  up  such  ridiculous  fancies  now  that  I  have  come 
back." 

The  Riven  Oak  was  a  solitary,  storm  shattered  tree, 
standing  some  paces  away  from  the  rocky  path  that  led 
from  Countisbury  to  the  river-side,  and  commanding  a  glo 
rious  bird's-eye  view  of  the  valley  of  the  Lynn,  clothed  now 
in  all  the  vigorous  strength  and  freshness  of  the  "  Manhood 
of  the  year."  Under  shelter  of  this  oak  was  poor  David's 
favorite  summer  out-door  study ;  and  as  he  stood  there 


54  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

by  Esther's  side  now,  listening  to  all  the  delicious,  fami- 
liar, wild  sounds  of  the  woods,  and  feeling  the  genial 
warmth  of  the  June  sun  upon  his  face,  a  feeling  of  peace- 
ful happiness  —  an  oblivion  of  Joan  —  stole  over  him  such 
as  he  had  not  known  for  months  past. 

"Do  you  smell  the  clover  from  the  valleys,  Esther?" 
speaking  in  that  low  tone  which  most  men's  voices  in- 
voluntarily take  once  during  their  lives  —  atone  which 
could  make  even  his  voice  musical,  and  throwing  his  arm 
lightly  round  her  shoulder.  "  Nowhere  but  here  have  I 
ever  found  that  rich,  faint,  lowland  smell  mingling  with 
the  wild  scent  of  the  moors  and  yet  not  overcoming  it. 
I  would  as  lief  be  blind,  Esther,  as  tasteless  in  the  smells 
of  nature.  They  recall  special  seasons  as  no  other  appeal 
to  our  senses  can.  I  might  see  wooded  valleys  and  hear 
distant  streams  twenty  years  to  come  without  thinking 
of  this  particular  day ;  I  could  never  stand  amidst  the 
fragrance  of  new-trodden  ferns,  and  heather,  with  clover 
and  hawthorn  scent  coining  to  me  from  a  distance,  with- 
out having  your  apparition  by  my  side  in  a  moment  — 
living  and  real  as  you  are  now." 

"  That  is  half  fancy,  David.  Shut  your  eyes  and  feel 
how  a  good  three  fourths  of  your  picture  vanishes  at 
once." 

"  I  feel  every  detail,  on  the  contrary,  ten  times  more 
vividly,  child.  I  am  sensible  how  '  all  the  land  in  flowery 
squares  smells  of  the  coming  summer ; '  I  am  sensible  of 
fox-gloves  close  at  hand,  although  half  hidden  by  furze, 
in  which  the  great  wild  bees  are  droning ;  I  am  sensible 
of  a  million  lives  afloat  upon  the  air.  I  am  sensible  more 
than  ever  of  your  presence  !  " 

"  Oh,  what  an  anticlimax!"  interrupted  Esther;  "to 
begin  with  quoting  Tennyson,  and  then  descend  to  bum- 
ble-bees and  Esther  Fleming !  Still,  I  do  think  one  takes 
in  a  great  deal  more  than  could  be  painted  in  a  picture 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  55 

on  a  day  like  this,  and  I  suppose  that  is  why  descriptions 
—  word-paintings,  as  Miss  Bates  calls  them  —  invariably 
seem  to  leave  out  half  the  life  and  freshness  of  what  they 
describe.  What  spirit  would  the  woods  have  for  us,  Da- 
vid, without  the  monotonous  roar  of  the  dear  old  stream 
below  ?  It  is  that  one  sound  that  makes  our  Devonshire 
woods  so  different  to  all  others  I  have  been  in." 

"  I  thought  you  would  come  back  too  fine  a  lady  to 
care  for  the  dull  delights  of  Countisbury,  Esther.  When 
I  saw  a  grown-up  young  woman,  talking  with  such  fine 
self-possession  to  that  person  upon  the  coach,  I  assure  you 
I  could  scarce  believe  it  was  our  simple  Esther.  What 
did  you  tell  me  his  name  was,  by-the-way  ?  " 

"Mr.  Vellicot." 

"  Nonsense.     You  mentioned  another  person  — " 

"  I  can  recollect  no  one  but  him,  and  John  Hartman 
the  coachman." 

"  A  person  with,  a  fishing-rod  and  a  straw  hat." 

"Oh  yes,  to  be  sure  ;  I  had  almost  forgotten  him  —  the 
stranger  who  was  going  on  to  Eynmouth.  Mr.  Oliver 
Carew." 

"  I  think  you  are  blushing,  Esther." 

"  I  think  the  sun  is  in  your  eyes,  cousin.  Had  we  not 
better  go  on  our  own  way  again  ?  You  know  you  say  the 
sport  is  never  good  for  anything  after  one  o'clock." 

And  leaving  David  to  follow  with  what  haste  he  could, 
Esther  ran  lightly  down  the  narrow,  rocky  defile  towards 
the  valley.  If  her  companion  had  been  any  one  in  the 
world  but  David,  she  would  have  felt  excessively  angry 
with  herself  for  her  folly  in  coloring  about  this  Mr.  Ca- 
rew; but  with  good  blind  David  for  sole  witness  it  did 
not  signify  much  how  foolish  she  was.  Why,  you  had  on- 
ly to  tell  poor  David  that  the  sun  shone  in  his  eyes  and  he 
would  straightway  believe  himself  mistaken !  Besides, 
even  if  he  persisted  still  in  crediting  his  own  senses,  it 


56         THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 

would  not  matter  very  much  after  all.  Poor  old  David  ! 
When  they  reached  the  valley  they  had  still  two  miles 
to  walk  before  reaching  the  part  of  the  stream  where  Da- 
vid meant  to  fish  ;  and  during  all  this  portion  of  their 
walk  he  continued  more  silent  than  usual. 

"You  never  talk  when  the  fish  are  within  hearing, 
David,"  said  Esther,  at  last.  "  Is  it  from  habit  only,  or 
do  you  really  think  the  trout  at  Ore  Oak  would  take  warn- 
ing if  the  distant  sound  of  your  treacherous  voice  was 
borne  to  them  along  the  waters  ?  " 

"  I  am  silent  because  I  have  nothing  to  say,  Esther." 

"  Oh,  David,  and  I  have  been  away  six  months ! " 

"  And  have  not  returned  now,"  he  answered  quickly.  I 
have  not  got  you,  Esther,  my  little  cousin,  with  me.  I 
have  got  a  young  person  with  a  vermilion  skirt,  a  hat  in 
shape  like  a  cheese-plate,  and  a  festooned  gown  —  but 
not  Esther ! " 

"  David,  that  is  very  base.  After  pretending  to  think 
that  I  looked  nice  you  suddenly  burst  out  upon  me,  like 
Joan,  about  my  festooned  gown  and  my  colored  skirt  — 
which  is  not  vermilion,  David,  but  very  sober  violet.  I 
will  put  on  one  of  my  old  frocks  and  Joan's  garden-hat 
the  next  time  I  come  out  with  you,  and  then  you  will  feel 
as  if  I  belonged  to  you  again." 

"Shall  I?  Shall  I  ever  feel  that,  Esther ?"  he  inter- 
rupted her,  hastily. 

"  Why,  whom  else  should  I  belong  to,  David  ?  What 
have  I  in  the  world  to  care  for  but  Countisbury,  and  the 
people  who  live  there?" 

Her  caressing  voice  thrilled  through  every  fibre  of  his 
frame.  "  Look  at  me  quite  straight  while  you  say  that, 
Esther." 

She  looked  at  him  with  perfect  unabashed  truth,  with- 
out the  faintest  uprising  of  color  into  her  face. 

"  Quite  sincerely,  child,  you  have  no  wish  or  desire  be- 
yond Countisbury,  and  the  people  who  live  there." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  tf 

"  Quite  sincerely.  I  am  attached  to  you  all  from  my 
very  heart  —  to  you  most,  David,  and  I  never  wish  to  go 
away  from  you  again." 

"  You  are  a  good  child,  Esther,"  after  looking  very 
hard  into  her  steady,  loving  eyes.  "  You  are  quite  true. 
I  perfectly  understand  you  now." 

And  he  kissed  her.  He  felt,  at  that  moment,  that  he 
could  never  be  querulous,  or  jealous,  or  exacting  with  her 
again  :  that  the  hope  to  which  alone  jealousy,  or  mis- 
trust, could  belong  was  utterly  extinguished  :  slain  by  her 
own  loving  eyes :  clean  gone  from  him  for  evermore  ! 

"But  you  look  so  pale,  cousin  David." 

"  The  sun  is  shining  in  your  eyes,  Esther.  Let  us  get 
on  our  way.  It  must  be  nearly  eleven  o'clock  already." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

RESCUED. 

So  died  the  solitary  dream  of  David  Engleheart's  life  ; 
died  by  a  gentle  loving  stroke,  far  easier  for  him  to  bear 
than  would  have  been  that  cruel  sudden  violence  which, 
had  the  dream  lasted  longer,  must  inevitably  have  await- 
ed it. 

Unfortunately,  we  none  of  us  feel  very  keenly,  at  the 
time,  what  intense  blessings  our  disappointments  really 
are  or  ought  to  be  to  us.  We  quiver  and  writhe  just  as 
if  the  horrible  operation  were  not  for  our  ultimate  good. 
We  cry  "  any  pain  but  this,"  at  the  very  moment  when 
this  pain  is  the  one  thing  needful  to  save  us.  Had  David 
Engleheart  known  that  Oliver  Carew  was  to  meet  Esther 
again  to-day,  was  to  renew  his  acquaintance  with  her,  to 
admire  her  more  than  ever,  to  walk  part  of  the  way 


58  THE  ORDEJIL  FOR    WIVES. 

home  with  her,  to  speak  words  that  might  lay  the  found- 
ation of  a  serious  and  lasting  attachment  —  had  David 
known  all  this,  do  you  think  he  would  have  mourned  that 
his  poor  foolish  love  had  gotten  its  death-blow,  at  least 
from  Esther's  own  tender  hand,  and  not  from  the  coarse, 
unfeeling  blow  of  a  rival  ?  Of  course  he  would  not ;  and 
Philosophy,  doubtless,  would  have  consoled  him  enor- 
mously, as  she  always  does,  under  his  trouble.  But  he 
knew  nothing  save  that  he  had  been  a  fool,  and  that  Es- 
ther would  never,  never  love  him  (though  Joan  might) 
while  he  lived :  and  when,  a  short  while  afterwards,  the 
girl  walked  away  from  him  while  he  fished  he  felt  that  all 
.the  yellow  sunshine  had  turned  black  and  cold,  and  that 
for  any  good  his  life  did  to  himself  or  anybody  else  in  the 
world,  he  might  just  as  well  throw  himself  into  the  river 
and  have  done  with  it  at  once. 

Esther,  on  the  contrary,  never  felt  in  happier  spirits  in 
her  whole  life  than  she  did  at  this  moment  of  poor  Da- 
vid's black  despair.  It  is  not  often  that  a  woman,  how- 
ever young  and  ignorant,  shatters  a  man's  hopes  without 
being  aware  of  it.  Some  slight  jar,  some  quivering  nerve 
or  broken  word,  gives  token  of  the  ruin  wrought,  even  in 
those  extremely  rare  instances  in  which  the  blow  has  been 
unpremeditated.  But  Esther  was  guiltless  alike  of  inten- 
tion and  of  knowledge  That  David,  at  his  immense  a^e 

O  '  O 

—  past  forty  at  least  —  and  with  his  striking  peculiarities 
and  old-world  ways  of  living,  should  be  in  love,  was,  I 
must  acknowledge,  just  the  very  last  contingency  likely  to 
occur  to  the  mind  of  any  girl  of  eighteen.  Esther  was 
accustomed  to  his  exactions  and  questionings  of  her  affec- 
tion ;  had  set  them  at  rest  as  her  really  warm  affection 
for  the  poor  fellow  prompted  her  to  do.  What  more  was 
there  to  be  thought  upon  the  subject  ?  David  was  happy 
with  his  beloved  rod,  she  with  her  own  thoughts  and  de- 
licious exhilaration  of  newly-recovered  freedom.  How 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  59 

exquisitely  tender  was  this  warm  light,  glancing  down 
upon  her  dress  through  the  donse  foliage  of  the  woods ! 
how  like  a  friend's  voice  was  the  eoft  brawl  of  the  stream 
as  its  clear  brown  waters  fell  with  thousands  of  gleaming 
silver  threads  across  the  weir !  How  distinctly  the  small 
transparent  pools,  away  from  the  line  of  seething  foam, 
gave  back  the  many-colored  forms  of  fan-like  ash  and 
delicate-leaved  water-plants  upon  the  bank !  Would  it 
mirror  back  her  face  as  clearly,  Miss  Fleming  wondered  ? 
She  leant  athwart  a  low,  moss-covered  root  to  see  ;  and 
beholding  the  reflex  of  her  own  figure,  with  the  rose  which 
vanity  had  led  her  to  place  in  her  hat  surmounting  it, 
instantly  began  to  wonder  —  led  by  what  train  of  ideas 
I  know  not  —  whether  Mr.  Carew  were  fishing  this  morn- 
ing, and  whether,  if  by  any  accident  they  met,  it  would 
be  right  for  her  to  recognize  him,  or  not  ? 

She  had,  by  nature,  not  any  one  of  the  qualities  that  go 
towards  the  making  of  a  coquette.  She  was  frank,  mod- 
est, true  :  all  that  a  coquette  is  not.  But  yet,  when  a  sud- 
den turn  of  the  path  brought  to  her  view  the  figure  of 
Mr.  Carew  advancing  just  at  this  very  moment  when  she 
was  thinking  of  him,  she  became  conscious  of  extraordi- 
nary interest  in  the  growth  of  some  ferns  among  the  rocks  ; 
then  of  the  great  beauty  of  the  river  itself;  finally — as 
by  instinct,  not  sight,  she  knew  the  stranger  was  drawing 
nearer —  of  the  reflection  of  her  own  flushing  face  in  the 
water;  also  of  a  general  desire  not,  perhaps,  exactly  to  be 
dead,  but  far  away  in  one  of  the  coolest,  darkest  nooks  of 
her  own  quiet  garden  at  Countisbury.  And  very  charm- 
ing did  her  consciousness  and  her  desire  to  appear  uncon- 
scious make  her  fresh  face  look  in  the  young  man's  sight. 

"We  have  had  no  rain,  you  see,  in  spite  of  all  our 
heavy  friend's  prognostics."  Meteorological,  of  course  > 
Mr.  Carew  was  true  to  his  race  and  to  his  age ;  but  still 
there  was  a  friendly  tone,  there  was  something  in  tha 


60  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

one  word  "  our,"  which,  in  itself,  constituted,  while  it  re- 
newed, an  acquaintance. 

"  And  you  don't  find  Devonshire  quite  such  a  dreadful 
place  as  you  thought  you  would?"  If  Miss  Fleming 
had  felt  horribly  shy  as  he  approached  her,  all  that  she 
showed  of  the  feeling  was  a  very  brilliant  color  now. 
She  possessed,  to  a  high  degree,  those  two  unspeakable 
charms  in  a  young  woman  —  self-possession  and  great 
steadiness  of  manner.  "  You  begin  to  think  there  are 
other  things  here  besides  cold  and  rain  ?  " 

"  I  see  there  are,"  said  Mr.  Carew,  meeting  her  eyes 
with  a  look  which  would  have  been  a  compliment  had 
she  chosen  to  receive  it. 

"Trout,  perhaps  ?     Have  you  had  good  sport  ?  " 

"  That  depends  on  what  folks  call  sport,"  he  answered, 
in  Mr.  Vellicot's  voice.  "N"o:  fishing  is  a  delusion.  I 
have  been  here  since  nine  this  morning  and  have  not  had 

o 

three  definite  rises  yet." 

"  And  my  cousin,  who  is  fishing  about  half  a  mile  oif, 
landed  two  splendid  trout  in  the  half-hour  that  I  was 
watching  him.  Really,  I  think  there  must  be  something 
in  _  in  _» 

"  Knowing  how  to  fish  ?  Well,  it  is  possible  ;  but  still, 
under  the  best  circumstances,  the  enjoyment  is  questiona- 
ble. With  first-rate  sport  it  may  be  all  very  well,  for  a 
short  time,  but  it  requires  immense  patience,  a  sort  of 
natural  genius  jather,  to  bring  you  through  the  initiatory 
processes.  I  shall  never  be  a  good  fisherman." 

"  La  g£nie  c'est  la  patience,"  remarked  Esther.  "  Any 
one  can  do  anything  he  likes,  in  time." 

"  Ah  !  so  we  are  told  at  school,"  answered  Carew,  "  but 
it  is  only  a  delusion.  '  Any  one  can  do  anything  he  likes  ! ' 
What  a  world  it  would  be "  —  looking  into  her  eyes 
again  —  "  if  wishes  could  bear  fruit,  after  that  fashion  ! 
How  horribly  children's  minds  are  perverted  by  their 
copybook  moralities !  " 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  61 

"  Yes,  but  you  omit  the  two  important  words,  in  time. 
You  omit  the  patience.  We  can  all  wish,  but — "  Miss 
Fleming  stopped,  rather  abruptly,  and  recollected  by  how 
many  hours  her  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Carew  could  be 
reckoned. 

"  But  few  have  the  endurance  to  attain  ?"  he  finished 
for  her.  "  Well,  if  I  was  to  wish  at  this  moment  it  would 
be  to  be  the  possessor  of  this  valley,  and  to  spend  my  life 
in  a  perpetual  summer  morning  beneath  its  shades." 

"How  fortunate  it  is  for  us  our  desires  are  not  brought 
to  pass  ! "  cried  Esther.  "  You  were  tired  of  fishing  in 
two  hours,  and  now  wish  to  spend  all  your  life  beside  a 
trout-stream," 

"But  not  fishing." 

"  Oh  ! " 

Miss  Fleming  grew  interested  in  ferns  again  ;  Mr.  Ca- 
rew first  looked  into  the  water,  and  then  began  to  take 
his  rod  to  pieces.  He  was  dreadfully  afraid  of  his  new 
acquaintance  going  away,  but  not  experienced  enough, 
himself,  to  know  exactly  how  to  set  her  at  ease.  Would 
a  commonplace  about  the  scenery  be  the  right  kind  of 
thing  to  begin  next  ?  or,  like  other  rustics,  would  the 
young  person  be  supremely  indifferent  to  the  things  she 
lived  amongst  ?  He  remembered  her  saying  something 
about  effects,  and  heather  in  August,  and  hazarded  it. 
"  This  is  a  very  beautiful  place,  really,  for  England.  It 
reminds  ine  of  Switzerland." 

Esther  looked  up  full  in  his  face.  "  What !  you  have 
been  to  Switzerland,  then  ?  " 

"  Dozens  of  times." 

"  Really  ?  " 

"Well,  not  quite  —  let  me  see,  four,  five,  yes,  I  have 
been  there  five  times.  I  have  done  it  thoroughly,  now." 

"  Plow  strange  !"  remarked  Miss  Fleming,  musing. 

"  What !  to  have  been  to  Switzerland  ?  " 


62  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  No,  I  mean  —  I  mean — that  Jane  must  have  been 
wrong  in  what  she  thought."  And  then  she  colored 
again  —  an  honest,  ruddy  color,  crimsoning  cheeks  and 
brow  and  neck  ;  and  Oliver  thought  her  lovely.  She  was 
not  shy,  and  yet  so  marvellously  prone  to  blush  (he  was 
accustomed,  remember,  to  young  ladies  of  the  world  :) 
she  was  dignified  and  yet  so  thoroughly  frank,  so  charm- 
ingly simple.  He  came  a  step  nearer ;  her  eyes  sank  be- 
neath his. 

"And  who  is  Jane?"  He  felt  his  own  self-possession 
returning  fast,  as  hers  ebbed  away. 

"Jane  is  my  friend  Millicent's  sister.  You  saw  Milly 
with  me  at  Swindon  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  know  you  remarked  me  there  at  all." 

"  I  remember  you  quite  well.  You  were  good  enough 
to  help  me  through  the  crowd,  and  when  we  went  back 
to  the  carriage  we  told  Jane,  who  remarked  —  I  do  not 
like  to  say  any  more,  Mr.  Carew." 

Esther  intended  this  mention  of  his  name  to  put  their 
acquaintance  upon  the  most  formal  and  frigid  footing; 
but,  having  said  it,  she  knew  in  a  moment  that  it  had 
taken  precisely  the  opposite  effect,  and  felt  rather  fright- 
ened at  the  result.  "I  think  my  cousin  will  be  waiting 
for  me,  sir,"  and  she  half  turned  to  go  away. 

"But  you  have  dropped  your  flower  in  the  river.  See, 
shall  I  get  it  for  you  ?  " 

The  damask  .rose,  the  gaudy  object  of  Joan's  animad- 
version, had  fallen  from  her  hat  into  the  water,  and  was 
eddying  fast  away  toward  the  little  fall  just  beneath  the 
rocks.  "  It  does  not  signify  in  the  least,  we  have  plenty 
more  in  our  garden,"  cried  Esther.  "  Please  take  no 
trouble  about  it." 

But  Oliver  persevered  in  his  attempts  at  rescuing  the 
flower,  and  after  some  difficulty  succeeded.  "I  will  not 
return  it  to  you,"  he  remarked.  "It  would  spoil  your 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  68 

"  Then  throw  it  back  into  the  river,  please." 

"  It  is  a  lovely  color.  I  remarked  it  when  I  first  saw 
you." 

"  It  is  quite  a  common  rose,  sir,  not  worth  looking  at," 
and  Esther  felt  an  odd  quickening  of  her  breath  while  he 
examined  the  flower  so  reverently ;  an  emotion  caused 
by  shame,  no  doubt,  over  her  own  foolish  vanity  in  hav- 
ing worn  it. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  making  a  collection  of  dried  plants," 
went  on  Mr.  Carew  ;  "  they  are  interesting  memoranda 
of  one's  travels.  If  you  will  allow  me,  I  will  keep  this 
for  my  first  specimen  ;•"  and  he  stuck  the  rose  in  his  but- 
ton-hole. 

Esther's  breath  came  faster.  This  man  was  a  stranger, 
was  half  presumptuous,  yet  she  could  not  put  him  down, 
and,  which  was  worse,  she  could  not  feel  displeased.  He 
looked  so  handsome  standing  there  in  audacious  posses- 
sion of  her  flower  ;  there  was  such  thorough,  boyish  good 
humor  in  his  audacity ;  how  could  she  feel  displeased  ? 
That  it  was  thoroughly  unprincipled,  however,  to  prolong 
the  acquaintance  a  single  minute  more  was  beyond  all 
question  ;  and  so  she  made  another  allusion  to  her  cousin^ 
and,  turning  round  at  once,  began  to  walk  away. 

Mr.  Carew  walked  beside  her.  "I  suppose  your  cousin 
would  not  condescend  to  impart  any  of  his  fishing  knowl- 
edge to  me,"  he  remarked,  quite  quietly,  and  as  though 
he  had  not  for  a  moment  imagined  that  Miss  Fleming 
had  intended  to  take  leave  of  him.  "  It  would  be  too 
much  to  expect  that  one  of  the  great  high-priests  would 
condescend  to  initiate  a  neophyte  into  the  mysteries  of 
the  stream." 

"I  am  sure  David  would  show  you  his  flies,  sir"  (she 
could  not  feel  angry,  being  glad  herself  that  he  had  not 
taken  her  at  her  word  :)  "very  likely  you  have  not  got 
the  right  sort.  We  find  the  fish  rise  better  to  green- 


64  THE   ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

drakes  and  stone-flies  than  any  other  at  this  season  of  the 
year." 

"  What !  you  understand  some  of  the  mysteries,  then  ?  " 

"  David  and  I  tie  our  flies  ourselves,  generally.  He 
had  a  present  of  some  from  London  once,  and  they  were 
really  beautiful  to  look  at ;  but  the  fish  didn't  seem  to 
see  it,  and  never  rose  to  them  as  they  do  to  the  ones 
we  copy  from  nature.  Shall  I  look  at  yours  ?  Perhaps, 
like  those  of  David's,  they  are  too  fine  for  the  country 
fish  to  understand." 

Nothing,  I  am  persuaded,  ripens  intimacy  between  two 
young  persons,  respectively  aged  eighteen  and  twenty- 
two,  more  than  the  juxtaposition  necessarily  caused  by 
one  of  them  looking  over  any  kind  of  book  that  happens 
to  be  held  in  the  other's  hand.  It  took  Miss  Fleming 
several  minutes  to  inspect  the  different  varieties  of  flies, 
to  give  giave  opinions  on  their  merits,  to  admire,  to  de- 
tract, to  advise.  When  she  had  finished,  some  occult  in- 
fluence made  her  feel  as  though  she  had  known  Mr.  Carew 
half  her  life  at  least,  and  that  it  would  be  sheer  affectation 
for  her  to  pretend  any  longer  that  her  cousin  David  want- 
ed her  to  return. 

So  when  Carew  asked  her  if  they  were  not  near  the 
junction  of  the  Lynn  waters,  and*  whether  this  would  be 
the  best  time  in  the  morning  to  see  it  to  advantage,  she 
answered,  quite  composedly,  that  they  were  within  a 
quarter  of  an  hour's  walk  from  Waters-meet,  and  it  would 
be  very  little  out  of  her  way  to  go  there  before  she  re- 
turned to  her  cousin,  and,  if  Mr.  Carew  pleased,  she 
would  be  glad  to  show  him  the  path.  "  It  is  not  the  first 
time  I  have  led  strangers  through  the  woods  "  (her  con- 

£T>  O  \ 

science  pleaded  against  its  own  misgivings.)  "  Only  last 
summer  I  showed  that  dear  old  clergyman  all  the  way 
along  the  Valley  of  Rocks,  and  even  Joan  did  not  blame 
me.  There  can  be  no  harm  !"  And  as  Miss  Fleming's 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES*.  65 

mind  never  took  into  account  that  the  dear  old  clergyman 
was  fifty-five  and  gouty-footed  and  paternal,  Mr.  Oliver 
Carew  handsome  and  twenty-two,  and  wearing  a  damask 
rose  (of  hers)  in  his  button-hole,  we  may  presume  that 
extreme  simplicity  really  prevented  her  from  discerning 
these  somewhat  material  differences  in  the  condition  of 
the  two  strangers. 

"  This  is  Waters-meet,  Mr.  Carew.  Please  don't  say 
you  are  disappointed,  even  if  you  feel  so^." 

Mr.  Carew  was  not  disposed  to  be  disappointed  with 
anything  that  Esther's  handsome  face  asked  him  to  ad- 
mire. He  already  thought  Lynmouth  the  least  slow 
place,  for  the  country,  that  he  had  ever  been  in.  The 
valley  was  fresher  than  Switzerland,  the  streams  were 
more  brown  and  transparent  than  any  in  the  highlands, 
everything  was  gold-colored  (so  he  averred,  and  very 
probably  thought,  in  the  first  bran-new  emotion  of  this 
rustic  flirtation)  ;  and  in  a  few  more  moments  Esther  had 
quite  forgotten  that  their  acquaintance  dated  from  yester- 
day, and  was  sitting  on  her  favorite  rock,  close  to  the 
water,  with  Mr.  Carew  leaning  over  her,  as  he  animadver- 
ted, with  great  warmth  and  eloquence,  upon  the  varied 
beauties  of  the  scene. 

Was  it  not  necessary  for  him  to  bend  down,  if  he  would 
make  his  voice  heard  at  all  above  the  rush  of  water?  And 
had  she  not  rested  in  precisely  the  same  manner  when  ac- 
companying that  dear  old  parson  through  the  Valley  of 
the  Rocks  last  summer  ? 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FLY-FISHING. 


FALLING  in  love,  after  a  day's  acquaintance,  with  a  face 
]ike  Esther  Fleming's,  is  not  a  thing  of  extreme  difficulty 
to  a  very  young  lad  under  any  circumstances.  To  Oliver 
Carew  it  came  with  remarkable  facility  upon  this  suminer 
morning  and  among  the  dangerous  loneliness  of  these 
silent  woods. 

Esther  had  chosen  her  resting-place  at  the  spot  where 
the  meeting  of  the  two  moorland  streams  is  first  visible 
among  the  woods  ;  a  spot  which,  shut  in  amidst  abrupt 
and  verdured  hills  on  all  sides  save  that  of  the  waters, 
forms  one  of  the  most  charming  Ruysdael-like  woodland 
pictures  in  the  world.  The  single  flash  of  the  two  streams 
just  at  the  moment  when,  parted  still  by  a  ravine  of  foam, 
they  break,  a  liquid  glass  of  delicate  grey  and  silver-green 
across  the  bed  of  black  projecting  rock  ;  the  glimpses  on 
the  left  of  the  Lynn  valley,  hung  with  masses  of  densely- 
shadowed  foliage  to  the  summit,  and  with  only  its  top- 
most crags  exposed  to  the  yellow  light  of  the  noonday 
sun  ;  the  precipitous  granite  cliff  upon  the  right,  its  ravine 
and  fissures  filled  with  glossy  wreaths  of  ivy,  whose 
weather-blanched  roots  are  knotted  in  fantastic  distortions 
amidst  the  rifts  of  iron-grey  stone  ;  the  masses  of  fallen 
rock  which  lie,  moss-covered  and  overturned  with  the  lux- 
uriant leafage  of  a  thousand  trailing  plants  ;  —  reader,  if 
you  have  stood  on  a  June  morning  in  that  fairest  valley 
in  England,  do  you  not  remember  all  these  details  of  the 
picture  ?  Seen  in  the  cool  green  light  of  noon  —  that 
shaded  and  most  exquisite  green,  deepened  here  and 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  67 

there  by  the  rich  brown  of  hoary  pine-stems,  or  broken, 
at  rare  intervals,  by  quivering  shafts  of  ruddy  gold  — was 
it  not  a  dangerously  lovely  back-ground  to  a  lovely  face 
of  scarce  eighteen  ?  Do  you  wonder  that,  then  and  there, 
Mr.  Carew  thought  how  pleasant  it  would  be  to  begin  re- 
hearsing the  first  act  in  that  pleasantest  drama  of  all  our 
lives,  that  he  forgot  the  horrible  dangers  which  await 
young  lads  of  fortune  when  they  admire  anything  between 
an  heiress  and  a  milk  maid,  and  only  remembered  the  no- 
ble lines  of  Esther's  glowing  face,  the  gentle,  honest  eyes 
that  looked  so  frankly  up  to  his. 

Well,  he  had  been  better  trained  than  to  do  such  fool- 
ish things :  he  had  been  duly  taught  how  to  regulate 
both  his  fancies  and  affections.  But  lads  of  fortune  will, 
occasionally,  have  eyes  of  their  own  wherewith  to  see, 
and,  which  is  a  vast  deal  more  perilous,  boyish,  honest 
impulses  of  their  own  to  follow.  .  Oliver  had  tried  hard, 
under  the  family  direction,  to  fall  in  love  with  an  unex- 
ceptionably  plain  heiress  for  some  months  past,  and  had 
not  succeeded.  Without  knowing  one  word  of  Esther's 
family  or  estate,  save  that  she  lived  at  a  farm  and  wore  a 
shepherd's-plaid  gown,  he  was  ready,  as  far  as  inclination 
went,  to  ask  her  to  accept  him,  and  all  he  possessed  or 
was  heir  to,  at  that  moment.  Oh,  desperate  perversion  ! 
Oh,  headlong  blindness  of  the  natural  man ! 

"  And  so  Jane  thought  me  a  farmer's  son.  She  must  be 
extraordinarily  sharp-sighted."  They  had  got,  as  you 
must  perceive,  whole  cycles  away  from  scenery  and  com- 
monplace. "  What  data  did  she  go  upon,  do  you  sup- 
pose ?  " 

"Milly's  description  of  you,  perhaps.  Milly  laughs  at' 
my  heroes  —  I  mean  at  the  heroes  I  like  to  read  of — I 
mean,  Esther  stammered  furiously,  "  at  persons  of  large 
size  and  sunburnt  complexions." 

"  Thank  you :  I  quite  understand  the  description  Jane 


68  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

received.     A  large-sized,  sunburnt  person.     It  exactly  en- 
abled her  to  form  a  true  estimate  of  my  calling." 

"True?"  said  Esther  hastily,  and  with  a  quick  glance 
at  his  face.  "  Oh  !  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  thought  Jane 
had  been  mistaken." 

The  visible  disappointment  in  her  voice  pleased  Mr. 
Carew  not  a  little.  In  a  moment  —  in  one  of  those  mo- 
ments, which,  trivial  as  they  seem,  do  so  much  to  turn 
aside  all  the  after  currents  of  a  man's  life,  he  resolved  to 
play  upon  it.  Whatever  happened  —  and  already  he 
scarcely  dared  to  ask  himself  what  he  desired  should  hap- 
pen —  it  would  be  amusing  to  himself  to  act  for  a  time 
under  a  false  character;  amusing,  some  day,  perhaps,  to 
see  the  girl's  surprise  when  she  should  know  the  truth, 
arid  discover  with  what  new  Lord  of  Burleigh  she  had  the 
presumption  to  fall  in  love.  "  I  really  cannot  see  any- 
thing in  the  profession  of  farming  to  be  ashamed  of,"  he 
remarked ;  "  but,  of  course,  everyone  has  his  own  ideas 
upon  the  subject  of  social  disgrace." 

"I  see  no  disgrace  in  any  employment  whatever.  I 
think  a  farmer's  must  be  a  very  happy  life,"  cried  Esther, 
hastily.  "  If  I  were  a  man,  I  would  rather  follow  any- 
thing else  in  the  world  than  a  profession  that  should  keep 
me  chained  to  a  close  London  counting-house  —  but 
then " 

"  Oh  !  you  ape  trying  to  make  what  amends  you  can  to 
me  —  trying  to  apply  what  salve  you  can  to  my  pride  — 
you  are  very  good.  I  thank  you." 

His  solemn  tone  made  Esther  believe  that  she  had  real- 
ly said  something  exceedingly  wounding  to  the  young 
man's  feelings,  and  very  kind  and  earnest  did  her  great  dark 
eyes  look  up  into  his  face.  "  Surely  you  don't  think  that 
I  meant  anything  to  hurt  you,  sir?  Why,  I  have  lived 
myself,  in  a  farm-house  since  I  was  four  years  old,  and  the 
few  friends  and  acquaintance  that  we  have  are  quite  plain 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  69 

country  people  like  ourselves.  I  only  mean  that  you  look 
very  unlike  a  farmer's  son,  and  I  think  so  still,  but  I 
know  a  farmer  may  be  as  much  a  gentleman  as  a  prince, 

and Oh  !  Mr.  Carew,  I  would  not  have  said  anything 

to  hurt  your  feelings  for  the  world." 

Long  afterwards  did  Oliver  Carew  remember  Esther 
Fleming  as  she  then  looked.  The  expression  of  her  eyes, 
lighting  up  with  earnest  kindness,  the  trembling  smile  of 
her  rich  scarlet  lips,  even  the  ray  of  sunlight  that  lin- 
gered, golden,  with  such  vividly-bright  distinctness  in  her 
dark  hair,  he  remembered  them  all.  What  he  did  in  the 
present  emergency  was  to  take  her  hand  and  hold  it  for  a 
moment  in  his,  then  assure  her  that,  so  far  from  feeling  of- 
fended, he  had  never  been  more  flattered  in  his  life. 
"  And  I  am  not  a  farmer,  myself,"  he  added,  "  although 
most  of  my  family  have  followed  that  occupation  for  gen- 
erations past.  I  am  a  soldier.  Rather  a  different  craft." 

Now  Esther  had  a  distinct  idea  that  all  men  in  the  ar- 
my were  irresistible  but  unprincipled ;  one  or  two  legends 
of  Miss  Millicent  Dashwood's  supplying  the  first  clause  in 
this  belief,  Joan's  stories  of  her  own  grandfather,  Garratt 
Fleming,  the  other.  But  still,  even  with  the  knowledge 
of  Mr.  Carew's  dangerous  attributes,  she  did  not  take  to 
immediate  flight.  It  was  so  tempting  herein  the  cool  de- 
licious shade ;  this  stranger,  whom  she  would  certainly 
never  see  again  in  her  whole  life,  was  so  unlike  any-one 
she  had  ever  talked  to  before ;  such  an  unwonted,  flatter- 
ing sensation  of  gratified  vanity  throbbed  at  her  own 
heart ;  —  and  then,  David  could  not  want  her !  And  so 
they  talked  on  and  on  until  at  length  a  sudden  gleam  of 
western  sunshine  fell  broad  upon  the  boulders  at  her  feet, 
and  then  Esther,  with  a  guilty  start,  remembered  that  it 
was  already  afternoon.  She  had  been  passing  hours,  not 
minutes  as  they  seem  while  passing,  with  this  Mr.  Carew. 

"  Good-bye  to  you,"   quite  abruptly;  "  my  cousin  will 


70  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

be  waiting  for  me.  I  beg  your  pardon  for  keeping  you 
so  long  from  your  fishing." 

"  And  I  am  not  to  see  you  any  more  ?  " 

"  You  said  that  you  should  only  stop  another  day  or 
two." 

"  I  have  altered  my  mind.  Am  I  not  to  see  you  any 
more  ?  You  never  walk  abroad  these  summer  evenings 
through  the  woods  ?  " 

"  I  walk  upon  the  moors  sometimes,"  she  answered,  de- 
murely. 

"  The  moors.     That  is  an  awfully  wide  latitude." 

"  The  moors  round  our  house  at  Countisbury.  They 
are  very  wild  and  still.  We  like  them  better  than  tLe 
valleys  after  the  dew  has  fallen,  David  and  I." 

"  Perhaps  your  cousin  would  have  no  welcome  for  me 
there?" 

"  David  has  a  welcome  for  all  strangers  who  come  to 
Countisbury,  and  Joan  and  I  would  be  glad  to  show  you 
our  garden,"  she  added,  simply.  "  You  will  have  no 
difficulty  in  finding  our  house  —  it's  the  only  one  for  miles, 
among  the  moors.  Good-bye." 

She  let  him  keep  her  hand  in  his  a  moment,  and  then 
left  him. 

•  David  was  waiting  patiently  for  Esther  just  above  the 
falls  among  the  rocks ;  he  had  been  waiting  there  and 
watching  her  and  Carew  for  more  than  an  hour.  "  You 
have  met  with  your  new  acquaintance  then,  Esther  ?  I 
would  not  disturb  you." 

"  Oh,  David,  how  I  wish  you  had  come  up  !  He  really 
is  a  very  quiet,  agreeable  person  and  so  fond  of  fishing ! 
I  am  sure  you  would  have  liked  him." 

"Do  you  think  so,  child?  " 

"  I  met  him,  and  he  said  he  had  had  no  sport,  and 
asked  me  as  to  what  flies  you  used,  and  I  just  looked  at 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  71 

his  and  told  him  which  you  found  were  best* —  the  green- 
drake  and  stone-fly,  you  know,  and " 

"  You  must  have  exausted  the  subject  thoroughly, 
Esther.  You  have  been  gone  near  upon  four  hours." 

"  Oh,  David,  impossible  !     How  can  you  say  so  ?  " 

"  You  left  me  at  eleven  ;  it  is  now  near  three.  Where 
is  your  damask  rose,  child  ?  " 

"  It  fell  in  the  water,  cousin.  Wasn't  I  right  about 
the  flies  ?  The  green -drakes  and  stone-flies  now,  and  the 
little  black  gnat  when  the  days  get  hotter  ?  " 

"  He  —  he's  going  to  stay  here,  then  ?  " 

"  A  few  days  more,  I  think,  David,"  looking  straight 
into  his  face.  "  You  are  surely  not  angered  by  my  speak- 
ing a  while  with  this  young  man  ?  I  should  have  done 
the  same  if  you  had  been  there." 

"  No,  not  angered,"  said  poor  David,  gently.  "  I  am 
never  angered  with  you,  my  dear." 

He  stopped  suddenly,  and  gathered  a  wild  rose  from  a 
briar-bush  that  grew  beside  their  path.  "  Will  you  wear 
this,  Esther,  instead  of  the  one  you  have  lost  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Carew  has  it,  cousin  ;  it  is  not  really  lost." 

"  And  mine  is  not  wanted  to  replace  it.  You  are  true 
to  your  new  faith  already,  child  !" 

David  Engleheart  threw  the  flower  into  the  water  and 
watched  it  for  a  minute  or  two  before  it  floated  away* 
and  was  lost  in  the  vortex  of  the  stream.  "Gone  —  gone 
forever,"  he  said  then,  and  as  he  spoke,  he  looked  very 
white  and  odd  about  the  lips.  "Little  oaklet  us  go 
home.  The  sun  is  sinking  fast." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ESTHER'S  KNOWLEDGE  OF   THE  WORLD. 

Miss  JOAN  showed  no  displeasure  whatever  on  hearing 
of  Esther's  renewal  of  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Oliver  Ca- 
rew ;  indeed,  she  rather  constituted  herself  the  young 
man's  upholder  or  champion  against  poor  David,  upon 
their  return  home.  "  It  was  surely  very  natural  he  should 
speak  again  after  travelling  for  two  hours  in  Esther's 
company  only  the  evening  before.  Would  you  have  the 
girl  never  speak  to  any  one  but  dull  old  owls  like  you 
and  me,  cousin  David  ?  You  look  as  gloomy  as  though 
she  had  committed  some  dreadful  offence  in  chattering 
for  an  hour  to  this  young  man.  Pray,  were  you  and  I 
never  young  ourselves,  cousin?"  At  all  of  which  amia- 
ble little  concessions  to  human  frailty,  Esther,  in  silence, 
greatly  wondered. 

David,  with  the  new  lights  he  possessed  as  to  Joan's 
intentions  on  himself,  read,  or  thought  he  read,  the  mo- 
tives of  her  leniency  pretty  clearly.  The  disposal  of 
Esther  by  marriage  would  be  another  bar  removed  be- 
tween Miss  Engleheart  and  himself.  What  a  horrible 
aggravation  of  his  jealous  pangs,  of  the  anguish  of  his 
dying  passion  was  in  the  thought !  All  that  evening  he 
paced  ui»  and  down  the  terrace-walk,  a  book  in  his  hand 
—  of  the  contents  of  which  his  eyes  read  never  a  word ; 
while  Miss  Joan  pursued  her  accustomed  sunset  avoca- 
tions in  the  garden,  with  great  cheerfulness  and  alacrity, 
and  Esther's  low  laugh  and  happy  girlish  voice  mocked 
him,  ever  and  anon,  with  their  ring  of  perfect  content- 
ment —  their  utter  unconsciousness  of  his  miserable  state. 

"  Do   leave   off  reading,  David  —  what  can  old  Ben 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  73 

Jonson  say  worth  knowing  about   on  such   a  delicious 
ni^rht  as  this  ?     Come  and  look  at  these  roses  we  have 

o 

budded,  David.     They  have  all  struck  but  one." 
"  David,  listen  to  the  bees  among  the  sycamores." 
"  David,  how  long  the  cuckoo  sings  this  year." 
"  You  had  better  leave  David  to  his  book,"  cried  Miss 
Joan,  as  all  these  little  kindly  attempts  of  Esther's  suc- 
cessively fell  to  the  ground ;   "  leave  David  alone,  and 
come  and  help  me  water  the  strawberries.     Patty  with 
her  great  hoofs  trampled  down  half  my  plants  last  year, 
and  David  waters  his  own  legs  more  than  he  does  the 
ground  when  he  takes  a  can  in  his  hand,  so  this  summer 
I  mean  to  do  it  all  myself  —  unless  you  like  to  help." 

This  was  quite  a  gracious  invitation  for  Miss  Engle- 
heart  to  give,  and  with  all  a  child's  zest  for  work,  Esther 
went  in  vigorously  for  watering.  No  pretty  playing  at 
watering,  as  practised  by  young  ladies  in  the  gardens  of 
suburban  villas,  but  solid,  hard  labor  of  alternate  pump- 
ing, carrying,  and  saturating  the  strawberries  and  herself. 
Then,  when  old  Mrs.  Engleheart  had  to  "be  read  to,  and 
Joan  had  left  her  alone  in  the  garden,  she  stole  away  to 
her  favorite  seat  beneath  the  thorn-tree  on  the  terrace- 
walk —  which  poor  David  had  now  vacated  —  the  only 
point  in  the  garden  that  commanded  a  distant  view  of 
Lynmouth,  and  of  the  sea.  Deep  down  through  a  vista 
of  green  valleys  curled  up  the  blue  smoke  from  the  little 
town ;  the  Channel  rose  beyond  it  calm  and  violet-colored 
like  the  cloudless  sky;  over  the  far  horizon  the  moun- 
tains of  the  Welsh  coast  shone,  delicate-hued  and  vapor- 
like  through  the  dim,  aerial  orange  of  the  dying  twilight. 
A  strange  thrill  of  happiness  stirred  in  Esther's  heart. 
Was  her  life  to  be  warm  and  roselit  like  that  sea  ?  her 
future  golden  like  those  distant  hills  ?  Was  she,  indeed, 
to  live  forever  in  this  old  silent  life  of  Countisbury  —  or 

—  or ?     Whatever  the  alternative  was  that  suggest- 

4 


74         THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 

ed  itself,  it  engaged  her  thoughts  steadily  for  at  least  an 
hour,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  she  was  still  so  occupied 
with  her  own  day-dreams  as  to  start  quite  guiltily  when 
Joan  Engleheart's  voice  again  broke  in  upon  her  medita- 
tions. 

"  You  are  out  in  the  damp  then,  still  ?  David  said  you 
had  gone  back  to  the  house." 

"I  have  been  here  ever  since  you  went  in  with  Aunt 
Engleheart,  Joan.  I  think  David  is  in  a  dream  to-day." 

"  David  is  thinking  of  nothing  but  his  books  as  usual," 
said  Joan,  tartly.  "  People  of  our  age  don't  dream,  ex- 
cept when  they  are  in  their  beds  and  asleep.  Pray  what 
have  you  been  thinking  about  all  this  time,  Esther  ?  It  is 
something  new  for  you  to  keep  quiet  so  long." 

"  I  am  rather  tired,  Joan.  We  had  such  a  long  walk 
to  day,  and " 

"  You  are  not  in  the  least  tired,  Esther,"  interrupted 
Miss  Engleheart,  with  emphasis;  "  and  I  am  sorry  that 
you  think  it  necessary  to  prevaricate." 

"  You- have  learnt  it  —  and  I  have  no  doubt  many  other 
virtues —  at  school.  From  the  .time  you  were  four  years 
old  you  never  told  me  an  untruth  before  :  don't  begin  now. 
I  should  find  you  out  in  one  half  minute :  and  besides," 
Joan  added,  not  unkindly,  "  deceit  is  unnecessary  for 
you,  Esther.  You  are  strong  —  strong  in  body,  brave  in 
spirit ;  dissimulation  is  for  the  weak,  and,  for  anything  I 
know  to  the  contrary,  may  be  their  best  resource.  Who- 
ever is  strong  enough  to  tell  the  truth  will  invariably  find 
it  to  his  own  interest  to  do  so." 

"Well,  then,  I  am  not  tired,"  said  Esther.  "Walking 
to  the  Waters-meet  has  made  me  no  more  tired  to-day 
than  it  ever  did  before,  but  I  thought  I  would  like  to  be 
alone  a  little,  and  to  think.  That  it  is  the  truth,  Joan." 

No  very  startling  confession,  truly,  but  as  the  girl  made 
it  her  hands  turned  nervously  cold ;  and,  instinctively, 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  75 

she  moved  her  face  away,  even  in  that  dim  light,  from 
the  searching  scrutiny  of  her  companion's  eyes. 

"  To  think  !  "  echoed  Joan  :  "  to  dream,  to  build  castles 
among  the  clouds  at  sunset.  I  know,  Esther,"  with  her 
hard  laugh.  "  I  was  once  eighteen,  like  you." 

"Yes,  Joan." 

"  Not  as  young  in  heart  as  you  are,  for  I  was  plain,  even 
then,  and  a  plain  woman  is  never  exactly  young  at  any 
age  —  but  still  eighteen.  I  dreamed,  I  hoped  ;  ugly  though 
I  was,  I  knew  I  could  be  happy  if  anybody  had  loved 
me."  Joan  brought  out  these  words  with  an  irascible, 
resolute  kind  of  gulp.  "  And  no  one  did  love  me :  and 
we  fell  upon  poverty,  and  dark  days,  and  by  the  time  I 
was  twenty  I  had  given  up  sunset  dreaming,  and  I  knew 
what  life  mine  was  to  be." 

"  And  have  followed  it  nobly,  Joan  ! "  cried  Esther, 
hugely  touched  by  anything  like  confidence  from  Joan's 
granite  .lips.  "  You  have  been  a  faithful  daughter,  and  a 
good  manager  of  your  mother's  straitened  means." 

"  I  possess  common  sense,  Esther ;  don't  talk  about  no- 
bleness and  such  fiddlesticks.  All  heroics  are  wasted  on 
me.  I  possessed  common  sense  and  endured.  I  knew 
more  contentment  was  to  be  got  from  work  than  from 
idleness,  so  I  worked  ;  and  by  this  time  my  life,  such  as 
it  is,  has  become  habitual  to  me  and  not  distasteful. 
"What  I  was  going  to  say  is,  that  at  eighteen,  I  should  no 
more  have  believed  I  should  ever  grow  into  what  I  am 
than  you,  with  your  good  looks  and  recollection  of  Mr. 
Carew's  fair  words,  could  imagine  yourself  Joan  Engle- 
heart  now." 

"Oh,  Joan!" 

"Esther,  all  these  dreams  are  natural.  I  remember 
mine,  and  there  was  no  harm  in  them.  I  don't  believe 
there  is  any  harm  in  yours.  David  was  wrong  in  looking 
so  glum  and  disconcerted  about  your  talking  to  the  young 


76  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

man  —  of  course,  poor  fellow,  he  knows  nothing  of  these 
things,  how  should  he  ? "  Esther  thought  of  David's 
confidences  of  the  morning.  "  He  looks  upon  you  as  a 
child,  and  would  do  so  twenty  years  hence,  if  you  lived 
in  the  same  house  with  him  still." 

" Twenty  years ! "  repeated  the  girl.  "We  shall  be  all 
old,  old  people  long  before  that  time." 

"  You  will  be  thirty-eight,  Esther.  Not  a  bad  sort  of 
age  for  a  woman  with  her  own  home,  and  with  her  child- 
ren growing  up  about  her  ;  but  a  hard  time  of  life  for  a 
single  woman  struggling  alone  among  strangers  —  a  gov- 
erness with  a  brain  just  warping  after  twenty  years  of 
work,  a  companion  just  ebbing  out  of  the  ghastly,  pro- 
fessional cheerfulness  she  has  earned  her  bread  with  till 
now.  Yes  ;  middle  age  has  few  charms  for  such  as  they." 

"  God  keep  me  from  being  either  a  governess  or  a  com- 
panion !  "  cried  out  Esther.  "  I  have  my  own  two  hands, 
and  the  knowledge  you  have  given  me,  Joan.  I  will 
work  cheerfully  if  there  is  need,  but  I  will  be  independent. 
I  will  never  work  to  suit  the  caprice  of  others." 

" '  I  will  —  I  will.'  That  is  how  all  young  people  talk : 
they  will  do  what  they  think  best,  and  then,  when  real 
life  comes  upon  them,  they  find  that  they  must  do  what 
lies  to  their  hand,  not  what  they  themselves  had  chosen. 
I  like  your  resolute  spirit,  Esther  —  the  more  because 
both  your  parents  were  poor,  weak,  shilly-shally  creatures, 
who  died  because  they  wouldn't  live  and  do  their  duty, 
and  therefore  it  has  come  to  you  from  training,  not  inher- 
itance :  but  I  would  have  you,  even  now,  look  your  com- 
ing life  straight  in  the  face,  and  not  merely  talk  of  your 
readiness  to  work.  My  mother  believes  that  Aunt  Tudor 
will  leave  her  money  to  you.  I  do  not." 

"  Nor  do  I,"  cried  Esther.  "  She  has  given  me  a  great 
deal  of  money  already,  thirty  pounds  a  year  since  I  was 
a  little  child,  and  now  this  last  fifty  pounds  to  send  rne 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  77 

to  school.  I  have  no  right  to  look  for  any  more  from 
her,  and  I  shall  not  want  it.  When  I  am  old  enough  I 
will  work.  The  word  has  quite  a  zest  for  me,  Joan." 

"  And  what  will  you  work  at  ?  " 

"  Oh  —  well,  whatever  I  find  I  am  fittest  for,"  said 
Esther,  cheerily.  "I  am  not  going  to  be  depressed  by 
anything  to-night,  Joan.  I  feel  that  merely  to  live,  merely 
to  suffer  even,  will  be  enjoyment.  The  world  is  so  wide, 
and  there  are  such  an  immense  number  of  years  to  go 
through  before  I  shall  be  old." 

"  What  is  this  Mr.  Carew  like,  child  ?  " 

"Mr.  Carew  is  —  is  tall,  and  not  ill-looking,  cousin. 
What  could  make  you  think  of  him  ?  " 

"  A  farmer's  son,  I  think  I  heard  you  tell  David. 

"  Yes  ;  but  you  would  never  think  so  from  his  face  or 
speech,  and  then  he  is  in  the  army,  himself.  How  clear 
the  beacon  shows  to-night,  Joan !  I  don't  think  I  ever 
saw  it  so  bright  before." 

"Esther,  you  would  be  happier  married  to  a  farmer's 
son  than  working  for  your  own  bread.  There  is  no 
lonely  working  woman  on  this  earth  who  does  not  daily 
and  hourly  weary  over  her  own  life.  I  speak  from  knowl- 
edge, and  I  am  not  much  given  to  sentimental  weakness- 
es, as  you  know." 

"  And  what  has  Mr.  Carew  got  to  do  with  that  remark, 
or  with  my  future  life  ? "  said  Esther,  quickly.  You 
don't  think  my  peace  of  mind  is  endangered  by  every 
stranger  who  speaks  to  me  for  an  hour,  I  hope,  Joan  ?  " 

"I  think  you  possess  decent  common  sense,  Esther," 
answered  Joan,  who,  while  she  wished  to  arouse  in  Es- 
ther's mind  a  certain  train  of  ideas,  was  far  too  keenly 
awake  to  overstep  her  own  mark  by  a  single  hair's  breadth. 
"From  your  description,  "the  young  man  appears  to  be 
iust  a  careless,  conceited  fool,  seeking  his  own  amusement, 
and  not  in  the  least  likely  to  fall  in  love  with  you  or  me, 
or  anyone  else  but  himself." 


78  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Oh,  Joan  !  he  is  not  in  the  least  conceited." 
"All  men  are  conceited,  Esther,  and  most  men  are 
heartless,  and  many  men  are  fools ;  but  I  have  no  fear 
whatever  of  your  peace  of  mind  :  if  I  had,  I  should  for- 
bid you  to  speak  to  Mr.  Carew  any  more.  Dan  Vellicot 
is  much  more  likely  to  come  as  a  suitor  to  Countisbury 
than  any  handsome  young  gentleman  who  wears  a  sword 
in  her  Majesty's  service,  and  travels  down  here  to  while 
away  his  leave  of  absence  in  fly-fishing." 

And  Miss  Joan  having  finished  these  exhilarating  re- 
marks, rose,  looked  about  her,  sniffed  vehemently,  gave  a 
single  low  meaning  whistle,  and  then  skirted  away  swift 
and  noiseless  as  fate  towards  the  orchard-hedge.  Even 

o 

while  she  spoke,  her  eye  had  been  intently  fixed  upon  cer- 
tain outlines  not  unlike  those  of  Patty  Simmons's  mother, 
with  a  basket  on  her  arm,  hovering  stealthily  about  the 
garden-wicket,  and  instinct  (true  as  that  of  an  Indian 
trail-hunter)  told  her  at  once  the  point  from  whose  ambush 
she  might  best  detect  and  pounce  upon  whatever  fresh 
deed  of  darkness  her  unhappy  handmaid's  depraved  nat 
ural  affections  had  been  leading  her  to  commit. 

"  Was  all  that  good  advice  meant  merely  to  show  me 
what  kind  of  life  lies  before  me,  or  to  warn  me  against 
the  danger  of  liking  Mr.  Oliver  Carew  ?  "  Esther  won- 
dered, as  later  in  the  evening  she  walked  slowly  along  the 
path  towards  the  house.  "Poor  Joan!  she  need  not  be 
afraid.  I  am  not  likely  to  forget  that  mine  will  be  a  life 

of  work  and  hardship,  and  as  to  this  stranger I  had 

nearly  forgotten  him  until  Joan  mentioned  his  name." 

"How  white  and  near  the  stars  look."  Miss  Flemin^ 

'  O 

further  soliloquized  ;  "  that  is  a  sign  of  fine  weather  to- 
morrow. I  shall  go  out  upon  the  moors  towards  sunset, 
and  wear  my  new  lilac  frock,  and  a  white  rose  in  my 
waist-belt  —  no,  that  would  look  as  if  I  wanted  to  be 
asked  for  it  again.  My  lilac  frock,  and  straw  bonnet,  and 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  79 

my  muslin  scarf  will  look  best.  Joan  will  say  I  have 
been  dressing  myself  out,  but  I  don't  mind  that  —  I  ought 
to  dress  more  neatly  now  I  am  grown  up ;  and  if  I  go 
out  by  the  orchard-gate  none  of  them  will  notice  me  .... 
Oliver  Carew  —  it  is  not  an  ugly  name.  I  shall  never 
write  about  him  to  Milly  and  Jane.  I  couldn't  bear  to 
read  such  nonsense  as  they  would  be  sure  to  write,  and 
besides,  in  a  few  more  days  he  will  be  gone,  and  there 
will  be  an  end  of  it  all  ....  How  nice  the  old  house 
looks,  lying  there  white  and  silent  in  the  moonlight :  I 
wouldn't  like  to  leave  it,  and  yet  I  don't  think  I  should 
like  to  live  at  Countisbury  forever,  and  grow  to  be  like 
Joan  and  David.  I  should  like,  before  I  die,  to  see  some 
of  those  foreign  places  Mr.  Carew  talks  so  well  about.  I 
wonder  whether  any  one  will  ever  care  enough  for  me  to 
take  me  to  them.  I  wonder  whether  Mr.  Carew  really 
likes  me,  or  only  pretends  he  does.  It  was  very  pleasant 
to  talk  to  him  as  we  sat  together  on  the  rock.  I  felt  as  I 
never  feel  when  David  holds  my  hand  at  that  moment 
when  he  said  good-bye.  I  should  like  all  my  life  to  be  as 
it  was  this  morning,  only  with  a  new  muslin  dress,  and  a 
new  hat  and  gloves  to  put  on  every  day,  and  with  Mr. 
Carew,  or  —  or  somebody  else  —  to  meet  me  wrhenever  I 
walked.  It  will  be  very  dull  indeed  when  Mr.  Carew  is 
gone.  I  wonder  I  never  knew  before  how  dull  it  is  to 
walk  about  the  woods  with  only  David  to  talk  to." 

And  oh,  reader !  (of  the  severer  and  more  uncompro- 
mising sex,)  remember  Esther  Fleming's  age  —  only  just 
eighteen  !  Remember  she  had  never  enjoyed  the  privi- 
leges of  a  ball-room;  had  never  been  to  an  archery- 
meeting  or  a  pic-nic ;  had  never  read  any  French  romance, 
except  "Telemachus,"  in  her  life. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    DISORDER    CALLED    LOVE.  '. 

Miss  ENGLEHEART'S  sweeping  condemnation  of  men's 
hearts,  brains,  and  principles  was  not  entirely  correct  as 
regarded  Oliver  Carew.  He  was  as  little  conceited  as 
any  handsome  lad  could  be  upon  whom  the  prettiest  faces 
of  more  than  one  London  season  had  smiled  not  unfa- 
vorably. In  matters  pertaining  to  his  own  gratification 
he  was  hot-headed  and  impulsive  as  a  schoolboy.  He 
would  not  have  stepped  a  line  out  of  the  path  which  he 
had  been  taught  to  consider  honor,  had  the  crossing  of 
that  line  been  the  one  and  only  means  that  should  rescue 
him  from  death. 

But  in  saying  that  he  was  doubtless  thinking  vastly 
more  of  his  own  amusement  than  of  falling  seriously  in 
love  or  marrying,  Miss  Joan  had  approached  very  nearly 
to  the  truth.  When  Mr.  Carew  had  thought  of  marriage 
at  all,  up  to  this  period,  it  had  been  as  of  a  necessary 
conditio.n  of  existence  that  would  doubtless  come  upon 
him  some  day,  leaving  his  own  happy  selfish  life  very 
much  as  it  was,  but  adding  the  companionship  'of  a  good- 
tempered,  pretty,  affectionate  sort  of  young  woman, 
whose  tact  and  devotion  to  him  should  prevent  his  ever 
feeling  bored  when  at  home,  but  yet  never  stand  the  least 
in  the  way  if  he  wanted  to  amuse  himself  elsewhere. 
The  domestic  lot  of  such  of  his  more  intimate  friends  as 
had  married  did  not  invariably  serve  as  an  illustration  of 
these  optimist  opinions  ;  but  he  was  a  great  deal  too  easy 
a  philosopher  to  trouble  himself  with  any  deeper  views 
of  life  than  those  which  his  own  favorably-placed  circum- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  81 

stances  suggested.  If  he  did  eventually  get  a  wife  like 
So-and-so's,  who  should  bully  him,  or  a  wife  like  So-and-so's 
dearest  friend's,  who  should  insist  upon  going  to  balls 
without  him  every  night  of  the  week,  why  it  would  be  a 
nuisance,  and  he  must  make  the  best  of  it  —  no  difficult 
matter  when  one  has  all  the  pleasantest  ingredients  for 
material  enjoyment  so  very  ready  to  one's  hand.  In  the 
mean  time,  he  was  duly  thankful  for  having  escaped  the 
strong  ankles  and  sandy  hair  of  that  wealthy  young  wo- 
man his  relations  had  desired  him  to  win,  and  had  every 
intention  of  continuing  in  his  present  unfettered  condi- 
tion as  long  as  possible. 

But  what  are  intentions  when  a  well-favored  face  looks 
up  to  yours  in  the  loneliness  of  green-shaded  woods  ? 
What  are  intentions  when  this  face  smiles  at  you,  flushed 
and  animated,  amidst  the  golden  glory  of  the  moors 
at  sunset  ?  What  are  intentions,  what  are  fixed  and 
steadfast  resolves,  when  this  face  turns  from  you  blush- 
ing, as  you  whisper  soft  adieux  at  twilight  amidst  the 
perfumed,  voluptuous  silence  of  the  summer  lanes  ?  In 
a  fortnight  from  the  time  that  Oliver  first  met  Miss  Flem- 
ing he  believed  her  to  be  the  loveliest  and  (which  charm- 
ed him  more)  the  most  loving  woman  in  the  world  ;  the 
only  one  he  had  ever  admired;  the  only  one  who  could 
by  any  possibility  make  him  happy.  He  believed  that 
he  could  not  live  very  long  if  he  were  to  be  separated 
from  her,  or  at  least  that  life  under  such  circumstances 
would  be  much  too  shattered  and  objectless  to  be  worth 
holding.  He  did  not  care  about  her  position  or  her  lack 
of  money,  of  these  he  had  enough  for  them  both :  he 
wanted  her.  No  man  who  married  Esther  Fleming 
could  be  said  to  marry  beneath  himself.  He  knew  that 
he  should  be  higher  and  better  in  every  way  from  the 
very  hour  in  which  she  promised  to  become  his  wife. 

And  to  a  certain  degree  he  was  right.     Esther  was  not 


82         THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 

a  woman  to  inspire  any  other  than  a  worthy  and  an  hon- 
est passion.  Mr.  Carew's  mental  condition  was  not  visi- 
ibly  improved  by  his  love  ;  indeed,  he  became,  if  anything, 
more  awkward  and  less  agreeable  in  her  society  than  he 
had  been  at  first,  but  he  was  none  the  less  bettered  in  his 
spirit  —  less  selfish,  less  worldly,  less  self-seeking  than  he 
had  ever  been  before  since  he  was  born  (less  so  than  he 
will  ever  be  again  while  he  lives.)  And  on  the  evening 
when  he  finally  determined  to  tell  her  his  love  he  felt  and 
knew  that  a  richer  stake  was  about  to  be  won  or  lost  by 
him  than  any  upon  which,  during  his  two-and-twenty 
years  of  life,  his  hopes  had  ever  before  been  staked. 

This  state  of  feeling  had  not,  of  course  all  arisen  out  of 
that  one  meeting  in  the  woods,  or  that  one  twilight  part- 
ing on  the  moorside.  Mr  Carew  had,  through  a  succes- 
sion of  happy  accidents,  met  Esther  every  day  during  the 
fortnight  of  his  stay  at  Lynmouth  :  had  met  her  by  the 
seaside,  in  the  valleys,  on  the  moors  ;  once,  by  special  invi- 
tation of  Miss  Joan,  had  spent  a  long  evening  with  her  in 
her  own  garden  at  Countisbury.  Acquaintance  is  never 
slow  of  ripening  between  persons  whose  united  ages 
scarce  make  forty  years.  A  fortnight  is  quite  enough  to 
bring  the  deepest  passion  of  a  very  young  man  to  matu- 
rity. On  this  evening,  when  his  confession  was  just  trem- 
bling upon  Oliver's  lips,  it  seemed  to  him  as  though  his 
love  had  already  existed  for  years,  as  though  no  further 
knowledge  of  life  or  of  Esther  could  be  needed  than  that 
which  these  dozen  of  country  walks,  of  lingering  twilight 
partings,  had  accorded  him. 

It  was  a  glorious  summer  night ;  the  last  night  in  June. 
From  the  healthy  uplands  around  Countisbury  they  had 
watched  the  sun  set  until  all  its  gold  was  merged  in  pale 
and  hiding  azure  above  the  sea ;  then,  when  the  shadows 
deepened  round  the  twilight  moors,  and  the  purple  of  the 
night  began  to  fall,  they  turned  away  through  one  of  the 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  83 

shaded  field-paths  towards  the  woods,  and  Mr.  Carew's 
voice  began  to  falter  as  he  talked. 

Now  Esther  Fleming,  in  spite  of  all  the  self-commun- 
ings  recorded  at  the  end  of  the  last  chapter,  was  not  in 
love  with  Mr.  Carew  one  whit.  She  was  flattered  exceed- 
ingly by  his  evident  regard  for  her ;  she  thought  frequent- 
ly, "If  this  is  love,  love  is  a  very  pleasant  thing,  and  so  is 
life."  She  liked  to  put  on  her  best  muslin  frock  and  a 
flower  in  her  waist-belt,  when  she  walked  out  to  meet 
him  on  the  hills ;  she  liked  to  hear  his  voice  sink  as  he 
spoke  to  her ;  she  liked  to  feel,  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life,  that  inordinately  strong  sensation  common  to  all 
women's  hearts,  namely,  pleasure  in  possessing  a  young, 
and  brave,  and  handsome  man  for  her  trembling  slave. 
But  she  did  not  love  him.  No  shade  of  real  passion  had 
crossed  her  heart,  no  deeper  emotion  than  that  of  flattered 
vanity  had  made  her  cheek  flush  and  her  eyes  sink  be- 
neath his.  A  girl  very  honestly,  I  was  going  to  say  icily, 
brought  up,  as  she  had  been,  does  not,  you  know,  warm 
into  sudden  emotion  as  quickly  as  do  indwellers  of  towns 
or  readers  of  romance,  or  frequenters  of  crowded  assem- 
blies (young  women  in  a  word  whose  stimulated  imagi- 
nation has  acted  out  the  drama  of  love  a  great  number  of 
times  before  the  actual  uprising  of  the  curtain,)  although 
passion  in  such  a  nature  as  Esther's  is,  when  once  aroused, 
strong  and  obstinate  in  proportion  to  the  very  slowness 
of  its  growth.  And  so,  not  being  at  all  in  love,  but  only 
fancying  she  was  and  knowing,  instinctively,  that  Oliver's 
declaration  was  coming,  Esther  felt  intensely  happy  and 
proud  at  the  thought  of  accepting  him,  and  knew  none  of 
the  agony,  and  fear,  the  torturing  doubts,  the  ague  fits  of 
suspense,  which  experience  should  one  day  tell  her  are 
the  sure  heralds  of  any  scene  of  nature  and  earnest 
passion. 

It  was,  as  I  said,  a  glorious  summer  night.     In  dark 


84  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

and  wintry  days  to  come,  and  when  all  the  love-delusion 
had  become  hollowness  and  vanity  in  her  sight,  how 
clearly  Esther  could  recall  every  outward  sound  and  sen- 
sation of  that  next  half-hour  !  the  faint  swirr  of  the  scythe 
from  distant  hayfields  in  the  valley ;  the  sonorous  drone 
of  wild  bees  on  the  wing ;  the  hushed  cry  of  the  cuckoo 
from  the  woods ;  the  elastic  warmth  of  the  thyme-laden 
air.  One  by  one  she  could  remember  all  the  mass  of  sum- 
mer foliage  over  which  at  the  time  her  eyes  unconsciously 
passed,  as,  with  beating  heart  and  flushing  cheeks,  she 
turned  away  from  Oliver's  pleading  face,  the  pink  and 
scarlet  wreaths  of  honeysuckle  bending  low  around  the 
foam -like  balls  of  elder,  and  tall  red  fox-gloves  in  the 
hedges,  or  meeting  in  close  embrace  with  the  delicate  ten- 
drils of  the  wax-like  briony  across  the  path ;  the  dim  and 
mellow  light  cast  by  the  transparent  leafage  overhead  — 
yes,  the  single  briar  rose  that  stood  out  so  clear  in  its  half- 
blown  crimson  against  the  sky  just  at  the  moment  when 
Oliver's  voice  no  longer  faltered,  and  she  was  forced  to 
meet  his  pleading  face  and  answer,  she  remembered  all. 

"  You  will  not  quite  forget  me,  Miss  Fleming  ?  You 
will  think,  once  or  twice  during  the  next  year,  of  the 
hours  we  have  spent  together?  " 

"  Yes,  I  shall  think  of  them,  Mr.  Carew." 

"  For  a  whole  year?  " 

"Anything  I  could  remember  for  a  year  I  could  remem- 
ber for  my  life." 

"Anything?  Your  meeting  with  that  old  parson  in 
the  valley  of  Rocks  last  summer,  or  with  me,  or  any  other 
utterly  unimportant  circumstance.  I  understand;  your 
memory  is  good  ;  simply  that." 

Mr.  Carew's  tone  grew  ironical.  He  wondered  whether 
he  was  making  a  fool  of  himself;  he  reflected  bitterly 
upon  the  levity  and  falseness  of  all  women's  natures. 

"  I  should  remember  things  I  did  not  care  for  but  I 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.  g-5 

should  not  think  about  them,"  began  Esther;  then  slu 
stopped  short. 

"And  you  will  think  of  our  walks,  and,  sometimes,  of 
me  ?  "  cried  Oliver,  eagerly  and  flushing  with  hope  again 
as  he  caught  sight  of  her  face.  "  Oh,  Esther  —  Miss 
Fleming,  I  mean  —  will  you  say  that  again  ?  " 

"I  did  not  know  I  had  said  it ; "  but  her  cheeks  were 
covered  with  blushes,  her  lips  could  scarce  bring  out  the 
equivocation,  the  last  instinctive  effort  at  denial. 

"  Will  you  say  it  now  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Carew  !  " 

"Miss  Fleming,  will  you  say  it,  and  make  me  the  hap- 
piest man  in  all  England?  Will  you  tell  me  that  you 
won't  forget  me  ?  —  that  I  may  think  of  you  and  write  to 
you  sometimes,  when  I  am  away?  Oh  Esther!"  cried 
the  lad  passionately,  "  will  you  let  me  love  you  ?  You 
can't  prevent  that,  for  I  love  you  from  my  soul  already. 
Will  you  let  me  hope  that  some  day  you  will  care  a  little 
for  me  ?  " 

A  subject  could  not  have  wooed  a  queen  more  humbly. 
He  never  tried  to  take  her  hand ;  he  hardly  dared  to  look 
into  her  face.  He  could  have  proposed  to  marry  any 
London  young  lady  at  a  ball,  in  the  full  presence  of  tall 
brothers  and  Argus-eyed  duennas,  with  less  diffidence 
than  he  felt  towards  this  simple  girl  of  eighteen  amidst 
the  lonely  silence  of  the  country  lanes.  "  Esther,  will  you 
give  me  no  answer  ?  " 

"  Oliver !  " 

All  he  sought,  all  he  wanted  (just  then)  upon  earth 
was  in  that  one  word.  "  Esther,  you  will  let  me  hope  ?  " 

He  looked  into  her  eyes  —  her  frank  and  girlish  eyes 
—  and  thought  he  read  there  the  very  fruition  of  hope; 
thought  that  in  their  unabashed  bright  happiness  there 
was  the  confession  of  real  love. 

"  Esther,  you  will  be  my  wife  ?  " 


gg  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Some  day,  sir,  perhaps.     I  am  very  young  now." 

"  Never  say  "  sir,"  any  more.  I  am  only  Oliver  to  you 
now." 

"Yes,  Oliver." 

How  the  word  thrilled  through  the  lad's  heart  again, 
coming  from  her  lips.  "  You  promise  me.  I  arn  exacting, 
Esther;  I  must  have  more  than  a  mere  indifferent  'yes' 
on  such  a  subject.  You  promise  me  that  you  will  be  my 
wife  ?  " 

"  As  you  wish,  sir." 

Long  afterwards,  Esther  Fleming  strove  to  assuage  re- 
proachful conscience  with  the  thought  that  she  did  not 
give  the  verbal  promise  he  required  from  her.  I  am 
afraid  that  when  eyes  and  cheeks  do  not  say  nay,  'tis  but 
a  spirit  of  Jesuitic  casuistry  that  can  seek  refuge  in  the 
fact  that  the  lips  have  not  promised.  What  are  mere  bare 
words  at  such  a  time?  Oliver,  poor  boy,  never  knew 
whether  she  said  "I  promise,"  or  "I  do  not;"  he  knew 
simply  that  she  had  accepted  him,  and  so  thinking,  trod 
upon  air  for  the  remainder  of  the  night.  He  was  really 
intensely  happy,  as  much  in  love  as  it  was  possible  for 
him  to  be ;  too  newly  intoxicated  to  reflect  upon  the 
exceeding  folly  of  the  entanglement,  too  enamored  of 
himself  to  doubt  for  one  instant  the  reality  of  Esther's 
love.  With  the  passion  of  men  and  women  there  mixes 
some  degree  of  bitterness,  some  recollection,  some  dread, 
from  the  first  moment  that  the  enchanted  cup  is  raised  to 
the  lips.  With  boy-and-girl  sentiment  there  is  no  bitter- 
ness at  all ;  and,  however  mawkish  older  persons  may 
consider  the  draught,  they  in  their  simplicity  do,  no  doubt, 
regard  it  as  nectar  fresh  from  the  hands  of  the  gods. 
Only  one  thing,  reader,  don't  let  us  older  persons  attempt 
to  chronicle  their  first  raptures.  Some  singularly  rare 
love  scenes  may  come  within  the  limits  of  fiction  that 
aspires  to  be  sensible ;  but  the  earliest  stage  of  a  very 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WITEX.  87 

immature  engagement  is  not  of  these.  Oliver  and  Miss 
Fleming  lingered  among  the  silent  lanes  till  ten  that 
night.  They  thought  of  the  stars,  they  thought  vaguely 
of  their  own  delicious  future.  They  were  silent  fre- 
quently for  long  spaces  at  a  time ;  their  conversation 
when  they  spoke  consisted  of  monosyllables,  at  once  dis- 
connected and  inane.  Could  the  prince  of  realistic  writ- 
ers —  could  M.  de  Balzac  himself —  make  much  out  of 
such  innocuous  raw  materials  ?  I  think  not  very  much. 
Love,  to  be  amenable  to  art,  must  be  misplaced,  or  dark- 
ened by  impediments,  or  coming  very  near  indeed  to  the 
end  of  the  third  volume  ;  and  as  Oliver's  and  Esther's 
love  is  at  present  in  no  one  of  these  conditions,  we  will 
leave  the  lovers,  if  you  please,  to  their  own  ambrosial 
but  infantine  raptures,  and  turn  to  the  remarkably  pro- 
saic .people  who  awaited  Esther's  return  beside  the  frugal 
supper  table  of  the  Countisbury  farm. 

"  Esther  is  out  late,"  said  Joan,  ostensibly  shouting  in 
her  mother's  ear,  but  with  her  keen  eyes  fixed  on  David's 
face.  "We  had  better  eat  our  supper,  and  not  wait, 
mother.  Mr.  Carew  will  have  met  her  again  ;  and  when 
young  people  like  him  and  Esther  meet,  old  ones  like  us 
are  not  likely  to  be  remembered." 

"  He  is  a  well-looking  lad,"  remarked  old  Mrs.  Engle 
heart,  dreamily.      "I   have   seen    him   here   sometimes, 
haven't  I,  Joan  ?  " 

"  You  saw  him  for  one  entire  evening,  a  week  ago, 
mother ;  don't  you  remember,  we  had  tea  under  the  thorn, 
and  afterwards  "  —  her  eyes  at  this  juncture  pierced  David 
clean  through  and  through  — "  afterwards  Mr.  Carew 
and  Esther  walked  for  an  hour  or  more  up  and  down  the 
terrace  in  the  moonlight.  Don't  you  remember  I  said  to 
you  'twas  a  wonder  they  could  find  so  much  to  say  after 
such  a  short  acquaintance  ?  " 


gg  THE  ORDEJIL  FOR    WIVES. 

"Esther  is  a  very  clever  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Engleheart 
turning  round  to  David  to  confirm  her  opinion  ;  "  and 
perhaps  this  Mr.  —  Mr.  —  what  is  his  name,  Joan  ?  —  is 
serious  in  his  attentions.  Don't  you  think  so,  nephew?" 

It  was  very  possible  David  thought  so ;  but  he  did  not 
look  up  from  his  book. 

"Unless  /thought  it  a  great  deal  more  than  possible, 
I  should  not  countenance  all  these  daily  walks  together," 
broke  out  Joan,  promptly.  "  Mr.  Carew,  if  he  is  a  young 
man  of  common  honor,  must  declare  his  intentions  after 
all  that  has  occurred." 

"  All  that  has  occurred !  "  repeated  David,  with  a  groan 
of  the  spirit  that  Joan's  sharp  senses  divined  rather  than 
heard.  "  What,  in  heaven's  name,  do  you  mean  by  that, 
Joan  ?  " 

"  I  mean,"  said  Miss  Engleheart,  very  drily,  and  con- 
fronting David  full,  and  looking,  as  he  felt,  poor  creature, 
right  into  every  weak  part — every  smallest  cranny  or 
interstice  of  his  heart,  —  "I  mean  that  for  a  fortnight 
this  young  stranger  has  met  Esther  daily,  and  has  walked 
with  her  for  hours ;  and  that  the  girl  keeps  the  flowers 
he  gives  her  in  her  room,  and  makes  foolish  excuses  when 
I  find  them  there,  and  cannot  even  mention  Carew's  name 
without  blushing.  You  don't  know  anything  about  such 
matters,  cousin,"  she  pursued,  pitilessly;  "but  when  I 
was  young  I  remember  all  this  was  called  being  in  love ; 
and  if  our  Esther  cares  seriously  for  the  young  man  Ca- 
rew, I  suppose  it  is  desirable  that  his  intentions  towards 
her  should  be  openly  declared." 

Miss  Joan  was  for  sharp  decisive  treatment  in  all  dis- 
orders, mental  and  bodily.  She  knew  the  extent  of  the 
malady  under  which  poor  David  was  suffering  to  the  full 
as  well  as  he  did  himself,  and  was  for  extirpating  it,  as 
one  would  a  thorn  out  of  the  fleshly  man,  by  sudden  vio- 
lence. The  searing  of  a  nerve  with  red-hot  iron  wire 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  89 

was  a  remedy  Joan  had  successfully  tried  upon  herself  in 
toothache :  could  not  a  foolish  passion  be  treated  in  like 
manner?  a  moment  of  sharp  intolerable  anguish,  and 
then  the  pain  gone  forever.  I  think  there  was  some  wis- 
dom in  her  opinion  —  at  least  as  regarded  David.  When 
the  cutting,  cruel  truth  fell  on  him  thus  suddenly  from- 
his  cousin's  lips  he  felt,  as  he  had  not  felt  during  this  en- 
tire fortnight,  that  he  must  rouse  himself,  not  only  to  en- 
dure, but  to  conquer.  All  these  dull  suffering  days  of 
mechanical  reading,  these  sleepless  nights,  these  agonies 
of  mute  jealousy,  must  have  an  end.  He  would  have 
to  act,  to  give  Esther  to  her  lover,  to  listen  to  family 
discussions  on  her  prospects,  to  see  her  married.  Loving 
her  as  he  did,  should  he  not  make  the  poor  exertion  of 
striving,  at  least,  not  to  cloud  her  happiness?  He  had 
been  gentle  as  ever  with  her  since  he  knew  the  utter 
hopelessness  of  his  own  passion  ;  but  he  had  been  moody 
and  silent  in  his  manner  when  she  tried  to  rouse  him  — 
unsympathizing  in  the  poor  child's  natural  hearty  spirits. 
This  should  be  over  now ;  he  would  rally  his  forces  and 
conquer.  The  feeling  which  had  been  in  secret  the  light 
of  his  life  so  long,  was  at  an  end.  He  must  return  to  the 
prosaic  middle  age  out  of  which  Esther's  fond  young 
face  had  for  a  few  years  cheated  him :  must  go  back  from 
life  to  vegetation ;  must  make  such  interest  for  his  days 
as  Joan  did ;  must  have  Joan  instead  of  Esther  for  a 
companion  ;  succumb  to  Joan  ;  marry  Joan,  very  likely  — 
it  mattered  little  now  whether  he  did  or  not.  Well,  let 
him  swallow  all  this  horrible  bitterness  like  a  man  —  not 
make  his  foolish  passion  any  more  ridiculous  than  it  was 
already  by  moping  and  pining  like  a  love-sick  lad. 

Joan  noted  the  effect  of  her  gentle  tonic  in  a  certain 
determination  with  which  David  flung  aside  his  book  and 
seized  hold  of  his  knife  and  fork ;  and  during  the  whole 
of  the  meal  continued  to  administer  generous  doses  of 
the  same  wholesome  draught  to  her  unhappy  victim. 


90         THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  ill  in  you,  David,  to  ask  Carew  to  din- 
ner. I  have  not  seen  any  one  at  my  mother's  table  for 
fifteen  years ;  but  I  think  for  Esther's  sake  this  young 
man  should  be  invited." 

"  Yes,  Joan." 

"  If  his  attentions  end  as  I  intend  them  to  do,  it  will 
be  one  of  the  most  fortunate  things  that  ever  happened 
in  our  family.  I  have  had  a  letter  this  evening  from 
Aunt  Tudor,  and  my  own  opinion  is  that  she  is  breaking 
up.  Her  feet  are  swelling,  David." 

"  Are  they  indeed,  Joan  ?  " 

"  Mother,"  emphatically,  to  the  poor  patient  old  lady 
nt  her  side,  "  did  I  tell  you  that  Aunt  Tudor's  feet  are 
swelling  ?  " 

"  Dear,  dear  ! "  cried  Mrs.  Engleheart,  in  her  deprecat- 
ing way,  "now  I  call  that  very  odd  indeed  of  Thalia. 
She  is  two  years  younger  than  me,  and  when  we  were 
girls " 

"  I  know  what  it  means,  David,"  proceeded  Joan,  who 
seldom  troubled  herself  to  hear  anybody  out.  "  I  remem- 
ber Uncle  Garratt  and  a  dozen  other  people  going  off  in 
the  same  way.  She  writes  more  than  ever  of  her  parties 
and  her  gaiety,  and  her  excellent  health  and  spirits,  but 
she  doesn't  deceive  me.  She's  breaking  up  fast." 

"  I  thought  I  heard  you  tell  your  mother  she  was  going 
to  Weymouth,  and  wanted  Esther  to  stay  with- her  on  her 
return." 

"  Oh,  you  were  listening  after  all,  then,  cousin,  when  you 
never  lifted  your  eyes  up  from  your  book.  Yes,  Mrs. 
Tudor  is  going  to  Weymouth,  and  has  asked  Esther  to 
stay  with  her ;  and  that  confirms  my  belief.  She  wouldn't 
go  to  the  seaside  in  the  dog-days,  unless  she  felt  she  was 
ill.  Now,  just  look  what  the  child's  position  will  be  at 
her  death." 

"  We  have  sometimes  thought  it  would  be  better  than 
it  is  now,"  suggested  David. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  91 

"  I  have  never  thought  so,"  answered  Miss  Engleheart. 
"I  have  never  built  upon  my  Aunt  Tudor's  goodness  of 
heart,  or  her  sense  of  duty  either.  She  helps  to  keep  the 
child  now  because  it  would  be  a  disgrace  not  to  do  so; 
but  she  wouldn't  spare  a  farthing  from  her  superfluities  to 
save  all  belonging  to  her  from  starvation,  if  the  starva- 
tion was  to  come  when  she  could  be  no  longer  shamed 
by  it." 

"  You  are  severe,  Joan." 

"  I  am  just,  David.  Mrs.  Tudor,  while  she  lives,  is  not 
likely  to  be  a  hard  or  a  miserly  woman.  She  has  too 
much  of  her  brother  Garratt  in  her  nature  not  to  wish  to 
be  liked.  She  is  too  thoroughly  worldly  not  to  spend 
money  where  the  decencies  of  the  world  require  it  to  be 
spent.  But  dead  —  that  is  quite  another  thing.  Uncle 
Garratt  was  generous  and  affectionate  to  his  son  at  the 
very  time  when  he  was  squandering  the  last  shilling  of 
the  lad's  inheritance.  Mrs.  Tudor  will  be  the  same  as 
ever  to  Esther  till  she  dies  —  then  — 

"  Then  her  money  will  not  be  buried  with  her,  I  pre- 
sume, Joan  ?  "  David  hazarded. 

"  Her  money  will  be  left  to  some  one  Who  doesn't  want 
it,  or  —  which  is  much  more  likely  —  will  be  found  to  die 
with  her.  I  took  it  into  my  head  years  ago  that  Aunt 
Tudor  had  sunk  her  money ;  and  when  I  take  up  a  fixed 
opinion,  Cousin  David,  I  generally  find  myself  right. 
Then  see  what  Esther's  position  will  be.  We  could  not 
support  her  upon  our  income,  David." 

"  We  would  try,  Joan." 

"  We  should  do  nothing  of  the  kind  ;  nor  is  Esther 
one  who  would  live  in  poverty  without  trying  to  help 
herself.  Besides,  our  money,  such  as  it  is,  dies  out  with 
my  mother's  life  and  my  own ;  and  what  provision  could 
be  made  for  her  even  if  we  could  manage  to  support  her 
—  which  is  doubtful  ?  No  ;  Esther,  unless  she  marries, 


92  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

must  work.  When  Aunt  Tudor  volunteered  this  fifty 
pounds'  worth  of  accomplishments,  I  believe  it  was  with 
the  notion  that  a  wretched  smattering  of  accomplishments 
will  be  able  some  day  or  other  to  get  the  child  a  living 
as  a  governess." 

^  "A  governess,"  repeated  old  Mrs.  Engleheart,  who  sel- 
dom caught  up  more  than  the  last  words  of  Joan's  ha- 
rangues. "  What  is  that  you  are  saying  ?  I  hope  you 
don't  still  keep  to  that  dreadful  idea  of  Esther's  being  a 
governess.  Oh  !  if  my  poor  dear  brother,  with  his  refined 
delicacy,  had  thought  that  a  grand-daughter  of  his  would 
be  brought  to  work  for  her  own  bread !  "  And  the  old 
lady  glanced  towards  the  picture  of  Garratt  Fleming, 
which,  with  its  imposing  Hussar  dress  and  medals,  and 
handsome  tranquil  face,  really  looked  awfully  well-bred 
and  condescending  upon  the  bare  oak  panels  of  that 
humble  room. 

"  Oh,  if  Garratt  Fleming  had  had  common  honor,  and 
had  not  wasted  his  sisters'  portion  and  squandered  the 
inheritance  of  his  own  descendants!"  said  Miss  Joan, 
who  was  never  bitterer  than  upon  the  subject  of  deceased 
relations.  "When  I  see  what  these  sentiments  of  refined 
delicacy  end  in,  I  thank  God  for  being  as  I  am  —  honest 
at  least.  I  should  be  glad  to  see  Esther  earning  her  own 
living  to-morrow,  if  there  was  need ;  and  I  am  proud  to 
say  the  girl  herself  inherits  none  of  the  aristocratic  feel- 
ings of  honor  of  our  family." 

"Family,"  repeated    Mrs.   Engleheart,  unconsciously; 
'  "  do  I  hear  you  right  ?     The  young  man  who  brings  his 
suit  to  my  niece  Esther  is  of  family,  you  say  ?  " 

"Yes,  mother;  yes,  of  course,"  answered  Joan  sharply; 
"  he  comes  of  honorable  ancestors  like  ourselves.  I  am 
thankful,"  she  went  on,  turning  to  David,  "  thankful  that 
the  lad  is  but  a  farmer's  son,  and  that  Esther  will  have  hon- 
est plenty  instead  of  starving  gentility  for  her  portion." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          93 

"  If  she  marries  him,  Joan.  We  do  take  things  so 
much  for  granted." 

"  We  take  things  as  we  wish  them  to  be,  very  often,'' 
answered  Miss  Engleheart.  "  I  wish  to  see  Esther  happi- 
ly settled  ;  and  you,  David,  seem  to  have  some  unaccount- 
able desire  to " 

"  Hush,  hush,  Joan  ! "  interrupted  the  poor  fellow,  quick- 
ly, and  jumping  up  from  his  chair  to  hide  his  confu- 
sion. "  Here  is  Esther  herself,  come  home  at  last  —  and 
alone." 

"  Carew  having  parted  from  her  at  the  gate,  Cousin 
David.  Esther  would  not  walk  by  herself  alone  on  the 
moors  at  such  an  hour  —  would  you,  Esther?"  to  the 
girl,  who,  silent  and  shy,  now  stood  at  the  door.  "  You 
have  not  been  walking  abroad  with  no  one  with  you  be- 
tween nine  and  ten  o'clock  at  night." 

"  Mr.  Carew  was  with  me,  Joan,"  she  answered,  reso- 
lutely, but  still  with  a  tremor  in  her  voice ;  "  he  met  me 
far  away  on  the  moor  and  —  and  walked  home  with  me." 

"  Come  in,  child,  and  lay  your  hat  down.  You  look 
tired,"  said  Joan,  not  unkindly.  "David,  can't  you  move, 
and  let  her  pass  ?  She  mnst  want  her  supper." 

"  I  was  going  to  move,"  cried  David,  very  confused  and 
stupid.  "  I  was  thinking  —  thinking  Esther  looked  pale." 

"  Which  is  an  excellent  reason  for  keeping  her  stand- 
ing at  the  door.  Mother,  you  are  asleep  in  your  chair. 
Come  away  to  bed  this  moment.  Mr.  Engleheart "  —  and 
Joan  turned  to  David  with  a  smiling  pleasantry  that 
made  him  shudder  —  "I  leave  you  to  do  the  honors  of 
the  supper-table  to  Miss  Fleming.  She  can  entertain 
you  with  an  account  of  her  long  ramble  with  Mr.  Carew." 

And,  seizing  Mrs.  Engleheart  in  one  hand  and  the  can- 
dlestick in  the  other,  Joan  strode  out  of  the  room,  and 
David  and  Miss  Fleming  were  left  alone. 

I  suppose  there  is  not  one  of  us  but  can  remember  the 


94          THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES. 

hideous  firmness  with  which,  in  some  great  crisis  of  our 
life,  our  own  right  hand  has  probed  the  wound  that  lay 
all  bare  and  quivering  not  an  hour  before.  How  we  have 
felt  a  fierce  kind  of  pleasure  in  each  self-inflicted  pang ; 
have  called  that  heroism  to  ourselves  which  was,  in  truth, 
but  the  last  spasmodic  struggle  of  some  hope  not  utterly 
dead.  Such  firmness  did  David  Engleheart,  the  least 
heroic  of  human  creatures,  feel  when  he  was  left  alone 
with  Esther,  now.  He  knew,  far  better  than  Miss  Joan, 
the  state  of  the  girl's  heart.  At  this  moment  something, 
not  of  innocence,  not,  certainly,  of  beauty,  yet  something 
gone  from  out  her  face  told  him  how  irrevocably  all  that 
he  had  once  so  coveted  to  possess  was  robbed  from  him. 
The  broad  soft  brow,  the  delicate  scarlet  lips  that  he  had 
bowed  down  before  as  a  poor  priest  bows  down  before 
his  image  of  the  Madonna,  were  his,  even  for  worship, 
no  longer:  they  were  Mr.  Carew's.  He  knew  it  from 
her  cast-down  eyes,  her  uncertain  speech,  the  hurried 
way  in  which  her  hand  trifled  amidst  some  wild  flowers 
that  she  had  laid  beside  her  on  the  table  ;  all  the  alpha- 
bet out  of  which  jealousy  can  so  quickly  spell  the  miser- 
able truth  of  its  own  fears.  Carew  had  spoken  to  her  of 
love! 

As  I  have  said,  the  strength  that  comes  to  many  a  pas- 
sion in  extremis  came  to  David  Engleheart  now.  He 
found  himself  able  to  jest  with  Esther  upon  her  late  re- 
turn. He  asked  what  she  and  Mr.  Carew  could  possibly 
find  to  say  to  each  other  during  so  many  hours?  Had 
the  lad  really  anything  in  him  on  further  acquaintance  ? 
He  seemed  not  to  have  too  much  to  say  for  himself  on 
that  evening  that  he  spent  at  Countisbury.  Esther  par- 
ried these  little  thrusts  as  she  best  might,  and  with  some 
latent  surprise  at  the  quarter  from  whence  they  came  ;  for 
David  had  never  before,  of  his  own  free-will,  so  much  as 
mentioned  Oliver's  name  before  her.  But  the  sense  of 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  95 

her  strange,  new-found  happiness  made  her  in  these  early 
moments  shy  and  embarrassed  even  with  him ;  and  she 
was  conscious,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  of  relief  when 
Miss  Joan's  sharp  knock  upon  the  bedroom  floor  over- 
head summoned  her  away. 

"  I  have  something  I  wish  to  tell  you,  David ; "  but  she 
said  this  without  looking  at  him,  and  her  hand  shook  a  little 
as  she  took  up  her  candle  from  the  table. 

"  It  must  be  told  quickly  then,  Esther.  Judging  from 
our  cousin's  footstep  she  is  in  one  of  her  little  tempers 
already." 

"  Not  to-night ;  not  to-night,  David,  dear.  To-morrow 
is  Barnstaple  fair,  you  know ;  Joan  will  be  away  all  day. 
I  will  tell  you  then.  It's  a  secret  that  only  you  are  to  be 
told  as  yet  —  a  secret  that  concerns  me  very  nearly." 
And  then  she  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck,  as  she  had 
done  every  night  these  dozen  years  ;  and  running  lightly 
from  the  room  and  up  the  narrow  stair,  left  him  silently 
gazing  after  her  in  the  darkness. 

And  Patty  coming  in  to  clear  the  supper  a  while  later, 
found  him  standing  there  still,  and  —  which  roused  Patty's 
softer  feelings  yet  more  —  never  a  book  in  his  hand.  She 
remembered  how  she  used  to  stand  idling  about  in  the 
dark  at  the  cruel  time  when  Joan  had  broken  for  her  with 
William  Tillyer.  "Am  I  to  let  Miss  Esther's  flowers 
bide,  Master  David  ?  they  be  main  withered  already." 

"Let  them  stay  so, Patty;  let  them  stay  so,"  answered 
David,  gently.  "  I  will  put  them  in  water  for  Miss  Esther 
myself.  And,  Patty,  don't  wait  up  for  me.  I  am  going 
out  to  smoke  my  pipe,  and  I'll  be  sure  to  see  that  all  the 
doors  are  locked  before  I  go  to  bed." 

Long  after  midnight  Miss  Joan  from  her  maiden-bower 
watched  the  glow  of  David's  pipe,  as  he  passed  restlessly 
up  and  down  the  garden-path  beneath  her  window, 
"  Smoke  away,  smoke  away,  David  Engleheaf t,"  she  soli- 


96  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

loquized,  with  many  an  emphatic  nod  of  her  gaunt  head 
towards  the  unhappy  object  of  her  regard.  "Put  all 
your  loves  and  hopes  and  follies  in  that  pipe,  and  burn 
them  up  for  ever.  So  ;  one  is  not  enough.  Fill  another, 
cousin,  fill  another.  I  have  given  you  food  enough  for 
fifty  pipes  to-night ! ". 

The  sound  of  his  hurried  steps  fell  on  her  ears  still, 
when,  wearied  out  with  watching  him,  she  betook  herself 
to  bed.  They  lulled  her  pleasantly  to  sleep. 


CHAPTER  X. 

POOR    DAVID  ! 

THE  next  day  dawned,  sultry  and  glowing,  as  few  days1 
even  in  July,  ever  dawn  upon  the  misty  moorland  heights 
of  North  Devonshire.  Quite  early  in  the  morning  Miss 
Joan  had  started  by  the  market-coach  to  Barnstaple,  and, 
as  was  usual  in  her  absence,  a  strange  calm  and  peace 
seemed  to  hang  over  all  the  little  household  at  Countis- 
bury.  Poor  Patty  sang  over  her  unmolested  work  ;  old 
Mrs.  Engleheart,  untroubled  either  by  book  or  knitting, 
basked  in  the  warm  sun  at  the  parlor  window ;  Farmer 
Vellicot's  pigeons  picked  out  the  green  currants  and 
gooseberries  as  they  listed ;  Miss  Joan's  own  great  Cochin 
China  fowls  walked  with  a  reprobate  air -of  perfect  assur- 
ance and  coolness  about  the  garden-paths. 

"  I  think  we  are  rather  unprincipled  to  encourage  these 
revolutionary  movements,  David,"  said  Esther,  as  they 
paced  slowly  up  and  down  the  terrace  in  the  early  morn- 
ing sun.  "  What  would  Joan  say  if  she  saw  all  her  crea- 
tures at  this  moment  ?  " 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         97 

"  Poor  wretches,  let  them  have  one  happy  day,"  an- 
swered David.  'Tis  only  twice  a  year  that  any  of  us  are 
free,  and  what  a  freedom  it  is  !  Why,  the  very  air  is  more 
genial  than  at  any  other  time.  Esther,  turn  your  face  to 
the  east,  and  feel  if  it  is  not." 

"  It's  a  lovely  morning,  David  ;  this  promises  to  be  the 
first  really  hot  summer's  day  that  we  have  had." 

"How  much  of  it  shall  you  spend  at  home,  child  ?  how 
many  hours  will  Mr.  Carew  spare  you  to  me,  I  wonder  ?  " 

"David,"  said  the  girl  laying  her  hand  quickly  upon  his 
arm,  "  don't  talk  like  that  about  —  about  Mr.  Carew  any 
more,  please.  It  is  a  jest  no  longer." 

"  Ah  !  " 

"  I  should  have  spoken  to  you  last  night  if  I  could  ;  but 
somehow,  David,  it  was  too  difficult  then,  and  I  always 
feel  wlien  Joan  is  in  the  house  as  though  she  can  hear  me 
even  when  she  is  in  another  room.  But  now  I  feel  I  can 
tell  you  all." 

"  I  am  glad  you  receive  me  into  your  confidence, 
Esther." 

"  Well,  I  ought  to  tell  Joan  first,  I  believe,  David  ;  but 
it  is  so  difficult  to  tell  her  anything  one  cares  much  about 
—  isn't  it?" 

"  Very." 

"  She  is  so  matter-of-fact  and  hard  —  so  unlike  you, 
Cousin  David.  David  "  —  he  felt  her  hand  trembling 
on  his  arm  —  "  can  you  guess  my  secret  ?  " 

"  I  am  ill  at  guessing,  Esther." 

"Mr.  Carew  has  asked  me  to  marry  him,  cousin,"  and 
she  looked  up  with  her  honest  eyes  straight  into  his.  I 
am  so  happy." 

"  You  have  known  him  a  short  time,"  said  David,  an<l 
she  was  too  deeply  moved  herself  to  note  the  tremor  in 
his  voice.  "  Your  acquaintance,  I  think,  dates  from  one 
fortnight  ago." 

6 


98  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"A  fortnight  and  three  days,  David;  but  then  I  have 
seen  him  so  often." 

"And  must  know  so  much  of  his  character  and  worth 
—  this  stranger  for  whom  you  are  willing  to  give  us  all 
up  !  We  have  loved  you  a  dozen  years,  and  he  a  dozen 
days,  Esther.  "Well,  it  is  natural." 

«  David ! " 

He  softened  in  a  moment  at  the  loving  tone  of  that  one 
word.  "  I  don't  blame  you,  Esther.  You  are  acting  as 
every  young  woman  has  acted  since  the  world  began  — 
rightly,  no  doubt,  and  as  Providence  meant  you  to  do 
only  —  only  don't  you  see  'tis  hard  to  part  from  you  ?  I 
have  but  one  thing  on  the  earth  to  love,  and  it's  hard 
to  lose  it." 

"  And  you  will  not  lose  me,  David,"  she  cried,  eagerly, 
"  not  for  years  and  years.  We  are  both  very  young,  and 
Oliver  is  only  starting  in  his  profession.  It  is  not  a  ques- 
tion of  losing  me  now  —  merely  of  letting  me  give  him 
my  promise,  David. 

"  You  have  waited  to  consult  me  before  doing  so,  then  ?" 

"  No,  cousin.  Last  evening,  when  Mr.  Carew  asked  me 
if  I  could  ever  like  him  well  enough  to  be  his  wife,  I  said 
yes.  I  was  obliged  to  tell  the  truth,  you  know  ;  and  I  am 
quite  sure  —  I  mean  I  think  I  am  quite  sure  —  that  I 
shall  never  like  any  one  but  Mr.  Carew  while  I  live.  But 
I  could  not  feel  happy  in  my  promise,  Cousin  David,  un- 
less I  had  spoken  of  it  to  you,  and  unless  you  said  that 
you  really  approved  of  my  choice." 
*  "  And  you  will  abide  by  my  decision  ?  " 

"David,  that's  not  quite  a  fair  thing  to  say.  I  should 
oe  very  miserable  if  you  refused  to  consent  to  my  engage- 
ment ;  but  I  feel  that  I  ought  to  be  truer  to  Oliver  Carew 
now  than  to  any  one  —  yes,  even  to  you.  Oh,  Cousin 
iJavid,  be  friends  with  him,  and  try  to  like  hirn  a  little  for 
my  sake." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  99 

The  expression  of  her  pleading  face  stabbed  David  to 
the  heart. 

"  I  am  not  at  all  a  fitting  person  to  consult,  Esther ; 
Joan  and  her  mother  are  your  guardians;  I  am  nothing 
to  you." 

He  moved  as  though  he  would  have  turned  away  from 
her;  but  Esther's  kindly  hand  caught  his  arm  tight. 
"David,  dear  David,  nothing  to  me?  I  thought  you 
cared  for  me  —  I  thought " 

She  could  get  no  further;  her  voice  choked,  the  great 
tears  struggled  to  her  eyes.  For  a  moment  David  Engle- 
heart  stood  irresolute ;  then  he  turned  round  quickly, 
stooped,  and  kissed  her  lips.  "  You  thought  of  me  as  of 
your  good  stupid  brother,  Esther ;  no,  too  old  for  that ; 
your  uncouth,  ugly  old  bear  of  a  playmate,  old  and  grey 
and  dull  enough  to  be  your  grandfather,  who  has  just  had 
a  dozen  years  or  so  of  his  life  made  bright  by  a  child's 
loving  face,  and  now  will  not  hesitate  to  give  his  darling 
(though  with  some  natural  pangs)  to  the  first  young  and 
handsome  stranger  who  chances  to  have  won  her  heart  ? 
That  was  it,  Esther." 

"Oh,  David!  how  can  you  speak  s6  of  yourself?" 
But  she  was  pale  no  longer,  and  he  could  see  a  smile 
coming  round  her  lips. 

"  And  you  were  right,  my  darling ;  that  is  what  I  have 
always  been  to  you,  what  I  am  now.  All  this  has  come 
upon  us  rather  suddenly,  Esther,  you  see.  You  are  only 
just  eighteen.  I  thought  I  had  a  great  many  more  years' 
safe  possession  of  you  yet.  However,  it  has  come,  and  I 
am  glad  of  it,  for  your  sake,  my  poor  little  fatherless  Es- 
ther !  May  Carew  love  you,  and  be  faithful  to  you  as 
you  deserve  ! " 

David's  vacant  face  glowed  till  he  looked  positively 
handsome  :  the  thrill  at  his  own  heart  went  far  to  reward 
him  for  all  the  anguish  of  the  last  fortnight.  Poor  David ! 


100  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

not  Philip  or  Alexander  ever  gained  a  greater  victory 
than  was  this  to  him. 

"  I  have  been  quite  afraid  of  you  lately,  cousin,"  remark- 
ed Esther,  presently,  and  when  they  had  taken  one  or 
two  turns  upon  the  terrace  in  silence.  "You  have  been 
so  constrained  and  odd  with  us  all  that  I  began  really  to 
think  something  was  going  on  that  displeased  you,  and 
so  did  Joan." 

«  Oh ! " 

"  She  even  hinted  to  me,  occasionally,  that  you  did  not 
approve  of  Oliver's  walking  with  me,  and  I  was  wonder- 
ing this  morning  whether  there  could  possibly  be  any 
truth  in  it,  when  —  ah,  you  kind  old  David  !  —  Patty  told 
me  of  your  putting  my  flowers  in  water  for  me  last  night, 
and  then  I  knew  you  could  not  be  really  angry." 

"  I  have  never  been  angry  with  you  since  the  day  you 
came  to  us,  child." 

"  Twelve  years  ago,  isn't  it,  David  ?" 

"  Fourteen  years  this  autumn.  You  were  a  little  soft- 
eyed  child,  dressed  in  black,  and  with  a  slow  melancholy 
way  of  speaking  and  looking  straight  up  into  one's  face. 
Esther,  you  crept  into  my  heart  at  once,  and  have  for- 
gotten to  leave  it  since." 

"  I  have  never  forgotten  the  first  night  that  I  came, 
David.  You  took  me  on  your  knee  and  made  shadows 
on  the  parlor  wall  for  me  all  the  evening,  and  then  car- 
ried me  up  to  "bed,  in  spite  of  Joan's  saying  I  musn't  be 
treated  like  a  baby." 

"  And  you  held  me  close  (a  vast  deal  closer  than  you 
would  hold  me  now,  Miss  Fleming,)  and  said  you  never 
meant  to  go  away  from  me  again.  Do  you  remember 
that?" 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  said  Esther,  laughing,  "  and  as  yet 
I  have  not  broken  my  word.  Very  likely  I  shall  stay  at 
Countisbury  till  you  have  had  quite  enough  of  me,  after 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  101 

all.  Joan  was  talking  to  me  ve?4y  js^rib-isly  the  ether  eve- 
ning of  the  lot  that  awaits  me  when  I  shall  be  an  elderly 
woman  of  eight-and-thirty  -^V^reijfy,  ysais  h'cuce/  Oh, 
David  ! "  she  broke  off  abruptly,  "  what  sane  human  being 
would  look  for  twenty  years,  or  look  forward  at  all,  on 
such  a  morning  as  this  ?  JCven  to  feel  the  air  blow  on 
one's  face  is  enough  to  make  one  in  love  with  the  present 
and  with  life." 

"  Let  us  come  away  to  the  thorn  tree  and  our  books, 
Esther,  and  enjoy  our  one  day  of  liberty  thoroughly.  The 
sun  is  too  hot  here  —  that  is,"  —  he  corrected  himself 
quickly  —  "if  Miss  Fleming  has  no  prior  engagement 
elsewhere." 

"Miss  Fleming  has  no  engagement  whatever  until  five 
o'clock  this  afternoon,  cousin." 

"And  then?" 

"  And  then  is  to  meet  Mr.  Carew  upon  the  moor,  and 
take  her  cousin  with  her,  if  he  will  condescend  to  come. 
You  see  everything  is  settled  for  you,"  she  added,  turning 
to  him  with  her  fond  smile  as  they  walked  slowly  towards 
the  house:  "even  if  you  had  wished  to  be  a  stern,  im- 
placable relation,  we  would  not  have  let  you  carry  out 
your  own  intentions.  There  is  only  one  character  in  the 
world  fitted  for  my  cousin  David  —  the  one  he  filled  on 
that  first  evening  that  I  ever  saw  him,  thirteen  years  ago." 

"  When  he  held  you  in  his  arms,  and  had  you  for  his 
own,"  thought  poor  David,  as  his  hungering  eyes  took  in 
all  the  beauty  of  her  upturned  face.  "  Ah,  if  shadows  on 
the  wall  could  make  you  happy  now  !" 

But  he  had  sense  enough,  poor  wretch,  not  to  put  his 
thoughts  into  words ;  and  with  lingering  steps,  and  Es- 
ther singing  as  she  went,  they  passed  along  the  shaded 
garden-path  towards  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XL 

OLIVER   AS    HERO. 

• 

PATTY  met  them  at  the  threshold  of  the  house-place, 
and  put  a  note  into  Esther's  hand.  Mr.  Carevv  had  given 
it  her  a  minute  ago  as  she  was  standing  at  the  orchard 
gate.  He  had  gone  down  along  the  path  towards  the 
Riven  Oak  very  quick,  and  had  waited  for  no  answer. 

Esther  glanced  over  the  three  lines  that  the  note  con- 
tained, and  her  heart  turned  sick.  "  I  can't  read  with  you 
as  I  promised  —  I  can't  stay  with  you  to-day,  David  ;  I 
am  going  out  at  once." 

"  Is  there  anything  wrong,  child  ?*  can  I  help  you  ? " 
David  asked,  as  he  followed  her  back  into  the  garden, 
"  Shall  I  take  any  answer  from  you  to  Mr.  Carew?  " 

"  There  is  no  answer  wanted.  His  regiment  is  ordered 
suddenly  away.  He  is  going  to  leave  Lynmouth." 

"  When  ?  " 

"  To-day ;  in  a  few  hours.  Tell  Aunt  Engleheart  not 
to  wait  for  me,  please.  I  don't  know  when  I  shall  be 
back." 

"  Mr.  Carew  going  ?  —  child,  shall  I  walk  any  of  the 
way  with  yon  ?  " 

"No,  no,  no!  Oh!  David,  I  can't  talk  even  to  you. 
This  is  harder  than  I  can  bear."  And  very  quick  and  res- 
olute, as  had  been  her  wont  from  a  child  when  anything 
moved  her  strongly,  she  passed  out  though  the  wicket- 
gate  into  the  orchard,  and  left  David  Engleheart  standing, 
helplessly  bewildered,  and  alone. 

Oliver  Carew  going  to-day  —  in  a  few  hours!  What 
was  David's  sympathy,  what  was  David's  existence  to  her 
now  ?  What  should  she  remember  of  the  wistful,  kindly 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  1Q3 

face  looking  after  her  as  she  went,  or  of  anything  in  the 
whole  universe,  save  the  one  cruel  fact  of  Oliver's  leaving  ? 
Since  last  night  all  her  world  —  never  very  wide  before  — 
had  narrowed  into  one  desire  —  Oliver's  presence,  the 
flattery  of  Oliver's  eyes  —  and  he  was  going.  It  was  the 
first  time  in  her  life  that  anything  approaching  to  a  real 
blow  had  fallen  upon  her,  and,  as  she  had  said  to  David, 
it  was  harder  than  she  could  bear.  So  she  never  tried  to 
strengthen  herself  by  reasoning  on  her  misery,  by  think- 
ing how  many  hundreds  of  lovers  part  and  meet  and  part 
again  without  dying,  or  how  likely  it  was  that  Mr.  Carew 
might  have  got  a  summons  to  return  to  his  regiment,  and 
would  yet  be  back  with  her  again  in  a  month  or  two.  She 
just  felt  (as  a  good  many  of  us  have  felt  at  Esther  Flem- 
ing's age)  that  a  crueller  fate  had  come  to  her  than  she 
could  by  possibility  live  through ;  succumbed  to  her  first 
trial  much  as  she  would  have  done  if  no  Joan  Engleheart 
had  ever  trained  her  to  strength  of  mind  and  self-reliance ; 
walked  white  and  trembling  and  broken-hearted  along 
the  path  where  Oliver  in  his  note  had  asked  her  to  meet 
him ;  and  when  an  abrupt  turning  in  the  woods  brought 
him  suddenly  to  her  side,  held  both  her  ,hands  out  in  all 
simplicity  to  meet  him,  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  You  are  going !  Oliver,  you  are  going  to  leave  me !  " 

Last  night  she  had  been  shy  and  stately  even  after  she 
had  accepted  his  suit ;  but  all  restraint,  all  girlish  pride, 
was  swept  away  from  her  heart  now.  She  dared  be  the 
first  to  speak ;  she  dared  let  him  see  the  full  extent  of 
her  love  —  for  she  was  to  lose  him. 

"It  is  very  sudden,  Esther,  but  when  you  know  what 
it  is  that  calls  me,  you  will  see  that  I  must  go." 

"  Not  to-day  ?  " 

"  Yes  to-day ;  in  a  few  hours.  Be  strong  for  my  sake, 
Esther.  Don't  look  so  white  and  piteous,  or  I  can  never 
bear  to  leave  you." 


104  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Mr.  Carew,  as  I  have  before  remarked,  was  accustomed 
to  a  very  different  walk  of  life  to  Esther's  ;  a  walk  where 
sudden  and  startling  emotions  do  not  so  much  obtain  as 
among  the  middle  classes  of  humble  country  people.  He 
had  often  seen  young  women  faint  in  crowded  assemblies, 
had  witnessed,  perhaps,  some  scenes  of  another  class,  in 
which  tears  had  been  called  in  as  an  effective  auxiliary 
weapon.  He  had  never  seen  anything  at  all  like  this 
stricken  childish  face,  with  its  passion  of  sudden  grief, 
and  I  think  it  frightened  him  a  little.  He  was  as  much 
in  Love  with  Esther  as  it  was  in  his  nature  to  be  ;  but, 
really,  if  love  at  its  onset  entailed  such  dreadfully  violent 
scenes  as  these,  love  must  be  a  much  less  pleasant  thing 
than  he  had  taken  it  for. 

"You  will  listen  to  reason,  Esther,  will  you  not  ?  You 
won't  look  so  miserable  when  you  hear  that  it  is  absolute- 
ly, imperatively  necessary  for  me  to  go  ?  " 

"No,  Oliver"  (the  unerring  tact  of  her  sex  telling  her, 
not  exactly  what  he  had  thought,  but  what  he  would  best 
like  her  to  do)  —  "  no,  Oliver,  I  will  try  all  I  can  not  to 
look  miserable  any  more."  And  then  she  did  try  hard  to 
keep  her  lips  from  quivering,  and  stammered  something 
about  the  note  having  been  given  to  her  too  suddenly, 
and  how  she  had  run  very  fast  through  the  heat,  and  she 
was  a  little  sick  and  faint,  she  thought,  and  —  and  all  this 
foolishness  would  be  over  directly. 

"  Sit  down  by  me  here,  and  recover  yourself,  you  poor 
little  silly  Esther,"  cried  Oliver,  drawing  her  kindly  to  his 
side.  "  Why,  your  hands  are  as  cold  as  ice  !  How  will 
you  ever  do  for  a  soldier's  wife,  if  you  are  so  sensitive, 
my  foolish  child  ?  " 

As  the  color  came  back  into  her  face  he  began  to  re- 
member how  wonderfuly  handsome  she  was,  and  how 
much  she  loved  him,  poor  thing  !  After  all,  this  sudden 
parting  was  very  hard :  it  overcame  him  with  quite  a 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        1Q5 

thrill  of  pain  to  think  that  months,  that  years  might  pass 
before  his  lips  should  touch  that  fair  young  cheek  again ; 
and  so  he  told  her,  in  language  you  and  I,  reader,  would 
not  think  surpassingly  eloquent,  but  which  was  to  Esther 
the  sweetest  and  finest  music  she  had  ever  heard. 

"  I  thought,  for  a  minute,  you  did  not  feel  it  as  much 
as  I  did,"  she  said,  presently.  "  When  I  came  up  first 
you  looked  as  calm  and  indifferent  as  though  nothing  had 
happened." 

"  Do  you  think  so  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no  ! "  with  all  the  bright  blood  in  her  face. 
"  I  know  now  you  would  not  go  unless  you  were  oblig- 
ed." 

"  And  can  you  guess  what  it  is  that  really  forces  me  to 
leave  —  the  only  thing  in  the  world  that  could  make  me. 
go  away  from  you  like  this  ?  " 

"  You  are  going  back  to  the  army,  I  suppose.  Esther's 
ideas  of  military  obligations  were  somewhat  vague  and 
superficial.  "  Your  colonel  won't  allow  you  to  stay  away 
any  longer." 

"  Esther,  my  regiment  goes  abroad  the  day  after  to- 
morrow, and  I  go  with  it." 

"Abroad?  not,  not  — "  the  whiteness  spread  around 
her  mouth  again  in  an  instant  —  "  not  to  India,  Oliver?  " 
(This  was  at  the  time  when  the  news  of  mutiny  had  just 
reached  home.)  "  Say  only  that  you  are  not  ordered  to 
India." 

"  We  are  ordered  to  Malta  first,  Esther,"  answered  Ca- 
rew,  quietly. 

"And  then?" 

"  Then,  of  course,  we  shall  wait  for  further  orders." 

"  Oliver  "  —  and  she  caught  hold  of  his  hand  in  both  of 
hers  —  "  tell  me  the  truth,  please.  I  can  bear  that  far  bet* 
ter  than  any  preparation.  Shall  you  be  sent  to  India  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so,  Esther." 

5* 


106  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"Ah!  I  understand." 

"  You  promised  to  be  strong,"  he  whispered,  drawing 
her  closer  to  his  side ;  "  and  you  give  way  again  already. 
I  am  not  in  India  yet,  remember.  I  may  not  go  there  at 
all  if  the  rebellion  is  put  down  quicker  than  we  think 
for." 

"  But  you  hope  to  go  !     That  is  the  cruellest  to  me." 

"  Esther,  should  you  love  me  better  if  I  did  not  ?  " 

She  was  silent.  She  only  clasped  his  hands  closer; 
looked  up  intently  with  her  great  imploring  eyes  into  his 
face. 

u  Should  you  love  me  better  if  I  had  not  the  feelings  of 
every  other  man  in  England  ?  if  I  did  not  long  for  my 
own  personal  share  in  dealing  out  judgment  upon  those 
cowardly  wretches  who  have  betrayed  us  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Oliver !  " 

"  Esther  "  —  and  here  Carew  really  spoke  with  emotion 
—  "  God  knows  that  I  love  you  truly  —  better  far  than  I 
ever  thought  myself  that  I  could  love.  Let  me  feel  that 
my  engagement  to  you,  instead  of  making  me  weaker,  will 
strengthen  and  help  me  in  my  duty  ;  that  —  that  —  I  can't 
well  express  what  I  mean  ;  and,  indeed,  the  lad's  voice 
was  choked  with  his  own  earnestness  ;  "  but  what  I  want 
to  say  is,  that  you  should  let  me  go  away  from  you  full  of 
hope  and  spirit,  and  not  thinking  of  your  poor  miserable 
face  here  at  home." 

"  Oliver,  don't  reason  with  me  —  I  can't  help  feeling  as 
I  do  !  "  And  then,  as  a  child  checked  from  its  sorrow  for 
a  moment,  goes  back,  with  sudden  passion,  to  its  first 
plaint,  she  burst  almost  wildly  into  tears,  and  hid  her  face 
down  on  his  breast. 

If  she  had  never  really  loved  him  before ;  if  she  had  mis- 
taken emotions  roused  by  a  handsome  face  and  pleading 
voice  and  sunset  walks,  and  her  own  first  girlish  pleasure  in 
being  admired ;  if  she  had  blindly  received  all  this  counter- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

of  nothing  but  his  own  ability,  to  tbe  simple,  manly 
heart  that  is  mine  so  entirely  ?  " 

And  then  Mr.  Carew's  letter  of  course,  went  through 
quite  an  ovation  of  remorseful  tenderness.  It  would 
have  been  more  truthful  to  say,  "  Should  I  prefer  a  man 
who  could  be  brave  and  handsome,  and  yet  write  grammat- 
ically, and  possess  at  least  as  much  brains  as  myself  into 
the  bargain  ?  "  But  Esther  .did  not  want  to  be  truthful ; 
she  wanted  to  make  out  the  strongest  possible  case  in 
favor  of  the  man  she  had  promised  to  love ;  and  aided  by 
her  imagination  and  still  more,  as  I  have  said,  by  the 
happy  chance  of  her  lover's  absence,  she  succeeded  in 
doing  so. 

Indeed,  this  letter,  after  her  first  disappointment  as  to 
its  ability  had  past,  was  a  strong  tie  that  bound  her  afresh 
to  Oliver.  A  very  young  woman  always  believes  she 
finds  some  new  clue  to  the  character  of  the  man  who  loves 
her  in  the  first  letter  she  receives  from  his  hand.  Those 
words,  "my  promised  wife,"  "your  attached  till  death," 
and  others  of  a  like  kind  which  occurred  several  times  in 
it,  appealed  to  all  that  was  deepest  in  Esther's  heart. 
Now  that  she  saw  these  things  written  she  felt  how  sol- 
emn the  tie  was  that  held  her  to  Oliver,  how  sacred  were 
the  promises  she  had  tacitly  taken  upon  herself.  She  be- 
gan to  think,  not  so  much  of  the  handsome  lad  she  had 
known  for  three  weeks  among  the  moors,  as  of  the  man 
who  called  her  his  promised  wife,  and  who  wrote  himself 
hers  until  death.  And  it  is  always  a  gain  for  a  common- 
place lover  when  he  begins  to  lose  his  individuality ! 

Esther  had  long  held  opinions  of  her  own  as  to  what 
should  constitute  the  character  of  a  man  she  could  love  ; 
and  soon  as  Oliver,  by  dint  of  absence  and  imagina- 
tion, was  placed  on  the  throne  of  this  visionary  ideal,  tbe 
girl's  memory  clung  to  him  with  passion  —  passion  of 
which  she  had  not  experienced  the  slightest,  the  most 


112  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

passing  throb  in  his  presence.  She  made  pilgrimages  to 
all  the  places  where  they  had  been  together.  She  found, 
or  thought  she  found,  the  exact  spot  where  Oliver  Carew 
first  spoke  to  her  of  love,  gathered  up  some  withered  pet- 
als of  the  wild  roses  on  the  bank,  and  wore  them  next 
her  heart  in  a  little  locket  from  whence  she  was  first 
obliged  to  dispossess  a  lock  of  poor  David  Engleheart's 
grizzled  hair.  She  liked  more  than  ever  to  spend  her 
evenings  in  the  house-place,  the  only  room  in  the  house 
that  had  known  Oliver's  presence,  and  to  dream,  sitting 
there  in  the  spot  she  had  sat  by  him,  that  she  could  still 
see  his  handsome  face  shining  on  her  in  the  golden  light. 
Even  to  walk  down  to  the  hotel  where  he  had  lodged 
and  look  up,  shy  and  blushing,  to  the  window  where  he 
used  to  stand,  made  her  pulses  thrill  strangely.  To  walk 
alone  and  think  of  him  among  the  odorous  lanes  at  night 
took  her  into  a  world  of  passion  more  subtle  and  deli- 
cious than  any  to  which  word  or  look  of  Mr.  Carew's  had 
had  power  to  transport  her  when  she  was  with  him. 

"  I  thought  you  would  have  pined  a  little  for  the  knight 
who  loved  and  rode  away,"  said  Joan,  spitefully  to  her 
once  ;  "  and  instead  of  that  you  look  better  and  happier 
than  ever.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  are  so  tough-hearted, 
Esther,  after  all  the  nonsense  David  has  talked  since  you 
were  four  years  old  about  your  sensitiveness  and  your 
warm  affections  and  your  painful  depths  of  feeling." 

"  Why  should'  I  grieve  for  Mr.  Carew  ?  "  said  Esther, 
rather  hypocritically.  "  Surely,  Joan,  you  would  not 
have  me  break  my  heart  for  every  well-looking  stranger 
one  chances  to  meet  upon  our  moors?  If  Mr.  Carew 
liked  to  ride  away,  I  am  sure  it  is  much  better  that  I 
shouldn't  trouble  my  head  any  more  about  him." 

Partly  because  he  had  himself  desired  that  their  en- 
gagement should  be  secret,  and  partly  influenced  by  her 
own  vague  terror  of  Joan's  tender  mercies  toward  all 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          113 

lovers,  Esther  had  told  Oliver  to  send  her  letters  under 
cover  to  poor  David.  Miss  Engleheart's  suspicions  as  to 
the  existence  of  any  positive  engagement  were,  therefore, 
suspicions  only.  But  she  had  sufficiently  sharp  intuitions, 
even  in  love  matters,  to  tell  her  that  Esther's  placid  face, 
after  the  terrible  paleness  of  the  first  two  days  passed  off, 
betokened  confidence  at  least  in  Carew's  good  faith ;  and 
the  extreme  lowness  of  David's  spirits,  and  the  visible 
change  in  his  demeanor  towards  Esther,  strengthened  her 
in  her  belief  that  not  only  was  the  girl's  heart  won,  but 
that  David  himself  was  perfectly  conscious  of  the  despe- 
rate folly  of  his  own  long-cherished  dreams. 

This  was  precisely  the  state  of  things  at  which  Miss 
Joan  had  desired  to  arrive ;  and  for  several  weeks  after 
Oliver's  departure  she  was  unusually  lenient  in  her  con- 
duct to  Esther,  never  questioning  her  as  to  her  lonely 
musings  on  the  garden  terrace  or  the  moors,  or  the  ab- 
sent and  distracted  way  in  which  she  went  through  the 
daily  routine  of  her  work  at  home.  But  when,  gradually, 
David  began,  as  of  old,  to  be  the  girl's  companion  ;  when, 
instead  of  Esther  sitting  alone  in  the  starlight  on  the  ter- 
race, David  got  back  to  her  side  as  he  had  used  to  do 
before  Carew  ever  came ;  when  long  conversations  and  lin- 
gering walks  and  evening  readings  became  once  more  the 
staple  of  David  Engleheart's  life,  Miss  Joan's  milder  feel- 
ings underwent  a  sudden  and  sharp  revulsion.  Esther 
was  making  David  her  confidant ;  it  was  not  for  him  but 
for  Oliver  that  the  girl's  face  flushed  up  as  she  talked  to 
him.  David,  poor  fool !  was  listening  for  another  to  all 
the  tender  nonsense  he  had  coveted  to  hear  at  first-hand, 
and  would  end  by  becoming  more  hopelessly  besotted  by 
his  ridiculous  passion  than  ever:  perhaps,  if  Carew  did 
prove  false,  would  end  by  winning  Esther,  not  to  love 
him  —  Joan  never  thought  that  —  but  to  accept  his  hon- 
est love  and  ugly  face  in  exchange  for  the  false  fair  strang- 
er she  had  failed  to  win. 


114  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

With  Joan  to  think  was  to  act.  She  did  not  confine 
herself  to  acrimonious  playfulness  with  Esther  and  scarcely- 
veiled  contempt  for  the  besotted  fool  David  ;  she  resolved 
to  part  them.  Mrs.  Tudor  had  already  invited  Esther  to 
spend  some  months  of  the  coming  winter  with  her  in 
Bath  ;  and  so,  without  any  discussion  of  the  matter  even 
with  her  mother,  Joan  wrote  and  proposed  to  her  aunt 
that  Esther  should  join  her  at  once  at  the  seaside.  "  Her 
visit  will,  of  course,  be  for  three  months,  as  you  pro- 
posed," Miss  Engleheart  wrote  ;  "  and  if  a  month  of  it 
is  spent  at  the  seaside  with  you  now  she  must  return  to 
us  one  month  earlier  in  the  spring.  The  change  to  a  gay 
watering-place  will  be  a  treat  to  the  girl  after  her  life 
here,  and  I  will  pay  her  travelling  expenses  from  Wey- 
mouth  to  Bath." 

Mrs.  Tudor  was  not  unfrequently  amiable  when  it  in- 
volved no  difficulty  of  any  kind  to  herself  to  be  so.  After 
all,  she  wanted  the  girl  more  in  her  seaside  lodgings  than 
at  Bath.  She  could  go  to  market  instead  of  Wilson  ; 
she  could  carry  her  air-cushion  to  the  beach  ;  she  could 
play  piquet  of  an  evening.  The  two  first  offices  Mistress 
Wilson  —  Aunt  Tudor's  own  maid — performed  with  ex- 
ceeding sulkiness  (and  all  demonstrations  of  nerves  on 
the  part  of  Wilson  made  Mrs.  Tudor  miserable ;  where 
should  she  find  such  an  inestimable,  faithful  creature,  one 
so  versed  in  wigs  and  dies  and  paint  and  scandals,  at  only 
twenty-five  pounds  a  year  again?)  for  cards  —  and  cards 
in  some  shape,  even  without  playing  for  money,  were  a 
necessary  aliment  to  Aunt  Tudor's  life  —  she  was  reduced 
to  the  doctor's  wife  when,  with  professional  kindness,  that 
lady  would  come  and  sit  with  her  an  hour  or  two  of  an 
evening.  Yes,  Esther  would  be  a  decided  relief.  Mrs. 
Tudor  wrote  back  quite  an  affectionate  response  to  her 
niece's  appeal ;  and  Joan,  without  any  note  of  warning 
or  preparation,  announced  to  Esther  at  once  that  she 
should  pack  up  her  things  and  start. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  H5 

It  was  a  moment  of  triumphant  glory  to  Miss  Engle- 
heart  when  she  broke  out  with  the  sudden  news  to  David. 
He  was  sitting  in  his  little  sanctum  in  the  sinking  autumn 
evening  with  Esther ;  the  futile  pretext  of  tying  flies  to 
occupy  his  hands,  but  his  eyes  —  those  great  foolish  eyes 
of  his,  as  Joan  would  call  them,  under  the  evil  influence 
that  possessed  her !  those  foolish,  and  not  at  all  handsome 
eyes  of  his,  fixed  with  their  accustomed  mute  adoration 
upon  his  companion's  face.  Esther  had  not,  as  you  know, 
one  particle  of  a  coquette  in  her  nature ;  and  of  all  liv- 
ing creatures  she  would  least  have  led  astray  poor  simple, 
trusting  David.  But  it  is  difficult  to  speak  of  the  thing 
nearest  one's  heart  without  some  unconscious  softening 
of  the  voice ;  to  speak  of  love  and  of  a  distant  lover 
without  some  of  the'  incense  originally  meant  for  the  ob- 
ject of  supreme  worship  shedding  its  dangerous  sweet- 
ness upon  the  senses  of  the  unhappy  neophyte  who  is 
humbly  playing  his  little  part  of  assisting  at  the  altar.  Es- 
ther was  thinking  wholly  of  Oliver,  and  not  one  whit  of 
David,  as  blushing  and  eager,  she  knelt  by  his  side  and 
repeated  to  him  some  solemn  unimportant  bit  of  intelli- 
gence out  of  Carew's  last  letter ;  but  I  must  confess  there 
was  enough  in  the  beauty  of  her  flushed  face,  in  the  child- 
ish grace  of  her  familiar  attitude ;  enough  in  the  uncon- 
scious charm  of  her  perfect  confidence  and  the  guilty  start 
of  poor  David  on  suddenly  hearing  Joan's  vicious  snap  at 
the  handle  of  the  door,  to  justify  all  that  lady's  precon- 
ceived visions  as  to  the  peril  of  this  prolonged  and  un- 
checked intimacy. 

"  Esther,  you  will  go  to  Aunt  Tudor  to-rnorrow  morn- 
ing." 

"  Cousin ?  " 

"  She  is  at  the  seaside,  and  wants  you.  Shall  Patty 
iron  out  your  lilac  muslin,  or  will  vou  travel  in  one  of 
your  cottons  ?  " 


116  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

«  Oh,  Joan  ?  " 

"  Make  up  your  mind  quick.  I  am  going,  to  pack  your 
things." 

"But,  Joan,  it  is  very  sudden." 

The  wrench  of  parting  from  Countisbury,  from  all  that 
remained  to  her  of  Oliver,  made  Esther's  voice  choke ; 
as  to  David,  he  sat  simply  speechless  and  stupefied,  un- 
conscious what  further  vials  of  wrath  Joan  might  be 
about  to  pour  upon  his  head.  Just  when  he  was  begin- 
ning to  get  a  little  happy  again,  to  have  at  least  two  or 
three  hours  of  daily  confidences  from  Esther  —  you  must 
remember  there  are  human  beings,  even  men,  who  would 
rather  be  the  confidant  of  a  passion  than  go  for  nothing 
in  it,  would  rather  be  talked  to  about  another  lover  than 
not  bear  any  mention  of  love  at  all  —  for  this  woman's 
inexorable  sharpness  to  have  dragged  his  poor  secrets  to 
light  again,  and  for  her  to  be  avenged  upon  him  thus ! 
He  could  scarce  have  felt  more  hopelessly  miserable  had 
she  said,  "David  Engleheart  you  will  marry  me  to- 
morrow morning."  Indeed,  I  almost  think,  of  the  two, 
it  would  have  crushed  him  less :  provided,  always  that 
Esther  might  have  been  present  at  the  wedding. 

"You  will  start,  by  the  coach,  at  five  to-morrow  morn- 
ing, and  get  to  Wey mouth  in  time  for  a  late  tea  ;  "  Joan's 
voice  sounded  quite  genial  and  good-humored.  "  Noth- 
ing pleases  Aunt  Thalia  more  than  to  find  people  don't 
want  to  eat,  so  I'll  put  you  up  some  hard-boiled  eggs  and 
sandwiches  for  the  journey.  What  are  you  looking  so 
odd  for,  child  ?  I  thought  it  would  be  a  treat  for  you  to 
get  away  a  month  or  two  sooner  from  home,  and  see  a 
little  gaiety  at  a  place  like  Weymouth." 

"  I  like  home  better  than  Aunt  Tudor,  Joan.  I  don't 
care  about  gaieties  at  all ;  and  if  you  please  I  will  write 
myself  and  tell  her  so  !  "  Her  voice  broke  again. 

Miss  Joan  seated  herself  with  that  peculiar  angular 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  H7 

sharpness  that  always  betokened  the  advent  of  a  few 
forcible  opinions,  and  looked  straight  into  David  Engle- 
heart's  face.  "  David,  shall  I  tell  you  what  ails  the  girl  ?  " 
she  remarked  with  perfect  callousness  to  her  victim's  ner- 
vous writhes  and  deprecating  gestures.  "  Shall  I  tell  you 
what  ails  our  little  Esther  ?  " 

"  Joan,  if  you  please,  I  would  rather " 

"Our  little  Esther  fancies  herself  in  love  with  Mr. 
Oliver  Carew." 

There  was  an  awfully-guilty  silence.  Esther  turned 
her  hot  face  away  towards  the  window ;  David  caught 
himself  fast  by  the  cuff  of  his  sleeve  in  one  of  his  own 
fish-hooks,  and  blushed  like  a  girl. 

"  In  love  with  Mr.  Oliver  Carew.  I  don't  say  that  she 
has  made  any  confidences  on  the  subject  to  you,  what- 
ever I  may  think  "  —  dire  visions  of  lonely  days  to  come 
rose  before  David  at  the  emphasis  of  that  one  word  •*— 
"but  I  am  just  going  to  tell  you  both  the  result  of  such 
dreams  on  a  girl  like  Esther.  You  are  not  really  in  love 
with  the  man,  child."  Esther  turned  round  quickly,  and 
with  an  indignant  denial  half  bursting,  from  her  lips. 
"  If  you  were,  I  should  speak  differently.  You  think  you 
care  for  him  wonderfully  because  he's  the  first  man  you 
have  ever  spoken  to ;  and  if  you  were  to  go  on  dreaming 
.and  loitering  away  your  life,  and  reading  sentimental 
poetry,  and  making  confidences  with  David  here,  you 
might  become  so  in  truth  What  is  the  result?  You 
will  have  to  battle  with  life,  will  enter  upon  it  weary- 
hearted,  dull,  spiritless  —  all  that  young  women  are  who 
have  gone  through  the  disappointment  of  a  first  foolish 
passion." 

"  But,  Joan " 

"  I  know  what  you  would  say,  Esther,  that  Carew  may 
return  and  hold  to  whatever  idle  word  now  stands  be- 
tween you.  I  hope  he  will  do  so,  if  he  is  a  man  of  hon- 


118  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

orable  feeling  and  has  sufficient  money  to  maintain  you. 
But  your  remaining  fooling  away  your  time  here  at 
Countisbury  can  have  no  influence,  that  I  know  of,  over 
the  young  man's  fidelity.  He  has  gone  to  Malta;  you 
say  he  is  to  go  to  India.  Well,  India  is  a  great  way  off, 
and  a  great  many  things  may  happen  there." 

"  Oh,  cousin  !  " 

"  I  am  not  thinking  of  death,  my  dear.  Mr.  Carew  did 
not  look  to  me  at  all  like  one  of  those  whom  the  gods 
love.  I  am  thinking  of  all  the  temptation  to  change 
which  must  beset  a  young,  light-hearted,  and,  I  should 
say,  not  over  strong-headed  lad  like  this  abroad.  A  lad, 
moreover,  who  is  only  bound  by  the  most  flimsy  and 
nominal  engagement  to  any  one  at  home." 

Esther's  eyes  glowed  with  a  fire  that  Joan  understood 
thoroughly ;  but  the  poor  child  was  forced  either  to  be 
sflent  or  to  betray  her  own  secret ;  and  so  Miss  Engle- 
heart  stood  master  of  the  field.  David,  paralyzed,  as 
usual,  by  the  suddenness  of  the  onset,  had  never  attempt- 
ed to  speak  since  Joan  entered  the  room.  As  he  listened 
to  her  opinion  of  the  likely  stability  of  Esther's  love  it 
did  occur  to  him  too  that  his  cousin's  decisions,  harsh  and 
unfeeling  though  they  seemed,  were  not  altogether  irra- 
tional. If  the  girl's  absence  from  Countisbury  were,  in 
truth,  to  uproot  her  fancy  for  Oliver,  David  felt  that  he 
could  bring  himself  to  bear  it,  even  though  he  had,  single- 
handed,  to  parry  his  cousin's  attentions  until  her  return. 

Joan  read  something  of  what  was  passing  through  his 
mind  upon  his  face.  "  I  really  think  you  might  try  to 
open  your  lips,  David,"  she  cried  harshly.  "  It  does  look 
so  foolish  for  you,  a  man  forty-two  years  of  age,  to  sit 
blushing  and  fidgeting  like  a  school-girl  when  these  things 
are  talked  of.  Do  you,  or  do  you  not,  think  that  Esther 
should  waste  her  life  among  us  old  people,  and  dreaming 
dreams  of  folly,  when  she  has  a  chance  of  mixing  with 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  H9 

the  world  and  improving  herself?  Have  the  goodness, 
for  once,  to  give  a  straight-forward  opinion." 

"I  —  I  don't  think  Esther  ought  to  offend  Mrs.  Tudor," 
said  David  ;  but  he  felt  the  baseness  of  his  own  motives 
too  keenly  to  look  in  Esther's  eyes  as  he  spoke.  "  You 
might  have  planned  her  visit  less  suddenly,  Joan,  but  I 
can't  be  so  selfish  as  to  wish  her  not  to  go." 

"  Do  you  hear  David's  opinion,  Esther  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Joan,  I  hear." 

"  And  what  decision  are  you  coming  to,  may  I  ask  ?  If 
you  are  going  to  write  to  Aunt  Tudor  you  must  set  about 
it  at  once." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  write  to  Aunt  Tudor,"  said  Esther, 
deliberately.  "  Your  advice,  both  of  you,  is  so  exceeding- 
ly sensible  that  I  have  no  choice  but  to  abide  by  it." 

"  And  you  will  travel  in  your  lilac  muslin  ?  " 

"If  you  please." 

"  Aunt  Tudor  would  be  sure  to  make  some  unpleasant 
lemark  if  you  arrived  in  cotton,  and,  as  you've  worn  it 
already,  you  may  as  well  travel  in  your  muslin  as  in  anoth- 
er. Lend  me  your  watch,  David,  if  you  please.  I  must 
go  and  see  to  the  hard-boiled  eggs  at  once." 

"Poor^David  is  fast  bound,"  said  Esther,  coming  up 
kindly  to  his  side.  "  Cousin,  what  in  the  world  have  you 
been  doing  with  your  flies  ?  "  All  our  beautiful  green  drakes 
and  hackles  wound  up  into  a  tight  little  ball,  and  two 
hooks  imbedded  fast  in  your  sleeve  !  Oh,  you  absent  old 
David  ! " 

"  I  was  not  absent,  child,"  he  whispered,  when  Miss 
Joan  had  left  them.  "  I  was  "  —  David  did  not  tell  stones 
well  —  "I  was  feeling  for  you,  Esther.  It  must  be  a  grief 
to  you  to  leave  all  the  places  that  remind  you  of  your 
short  happiness." 

"  And  yet  you  advised  me  to  go." 

**  I  couldn't  find  it  in  my  conscience  to  say  that  you 


120  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

should  run  any  risk  of  offending  Mrs.  Tudor ;  besides,  it. 
is  better  for  you  to  have  change  and  occupation  than  re- 
main here." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it.  Oliver 'would  say  so  too :  that  is  why 
I  have  brought  myself  to  go  so  suddenly.  He  may  be 
away  for  years.  I  must  do  other  things  than  dream  and 
regret  and  look  back  during  all  that  time.  I  must  im- 
prove myself,  and  see  more  of  life,  and  grow  wiser  and 
stronger  for  his  sake." 

«  Yes." 

"  And,  you  know,  David,"  (she  said  this  with  exceed- 
ing deliberation  and  certainty,)  "it  is  childish  in  the  ex- 
treme to  care  so  much  for  places :  no  change  of  scene  or 
people  can  really  have  any  influence  on  one's  feelings 
when  they  are  very  true  and  deep  like  mine.  Oliver  will 
be  quite  as  much  with  me  wherever  I  go  as  he  is  here  at 
Countisbury." 

And  quite  late  that  night,  when  Miss  Joan  had  releas- 
ed her  from  her  packing,  and  when  all  t£e  house  was  still, 
Esther  stole  away  through  the  dim  woods  to  the  foot  of 
that  sycamore  where  she  had  parted  from  Carew,  and 
cried  beneath  it,  and  apostrophized  it,  and,  I  think,  press- 
ed her  lips  upon  its  bark  with  warmth  much  more  credit- 
ble  to  her  eighteen  years  than  to  her  philosophy. 

"  My  love  is  only  a  foolish  dream  that  time  will  wake 
me  from !  Change  of  scene  will  bring  me  to  be  untrue 
to  one  word  that  I  have  promised !  Oh,  Oliver !  are 
you  thinking  of  me  now  ?  Oliver,  I  never  knew  before 
how  much  I  loved  you  !  " 

At  that  particular  moment  Mr.  Carew  was  looking  in 
the  face  of  the  prettiest  girl  in  Valetta,  and  assuring  her 
that  he  had  never  before  danced  with  any  one  whose 
step,  both  in  the  waltz  and  the  polka-mazurka,  suited  his 
own  so  exactly.  To  a  superficial  observer  of  human  hap- 
piness it  would  sometimes  seem  rather  a  matter  for  rejoic 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         121 

ing  than  regret  that  one  half  of  the  world  can  never  know, 
with  minute  and  circumstantial  accuracy,  what  the  other 
half  does. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
A  PHARISEE,  comme  il  faut. 

JOAN  ENGLEHEART  was  right  when  she  said  that  Mrs. 
Tudor  did  not  like  seeing  people  eat.  But  Mrs.  Tudor,  in 
spite  of  this  little  peculiarity,  and  several  others  of  a  like 
nature,  was  not  a  mean  woman.  She  was  too  intensely 
selfish,  too  avid  of  the  good  opinion  of  others,  to  be 
essentially  mean.  In  what  she  could  be  stingy,  unseen, 
she  was  stingy ;  in  liberality  that  showed  she  was  liberal, 
liberal,  occasionally,  to  excess. 

"  I  have  too  much  feeling  for  my  own  happiness,"  Mrs. 
Tudor  would  say,  when  a  handsome  parson  or  fashionable 
physician  pleaded  some  case  of  misery  to  her.  "  I  have 
always  been  led  away  by  my  heart  —  too  much  for  my 
own  good,  perhaps."  And  then,  notwithstanding  her 
threescore  years  and  ten,  the  recollection  of  so  much  self- 
sacrifice  and  vicarious  suffering  would  make  Mrs.  Tudor 
weep  —  veritable  tears,  but  promptly  dried  —  with  the 
delicacy  of  a  woman  who,  though  she  feels,  does  not 
mean  to  parade  that  -feeling  to  the  world ;  and  who  re- 
members whereof  the  bloom  of  her  cheeks  is  made ! 

She  never  subscribed  to  public  charities  even  with  the 
seductions  of  standing  in  print  among  lords  and  mar- 
chionesses. "  The  widow's  mite  should  be  given  in  secret" 
was  one  of  Mrs.  Tudor's  axioms.  "  Let  the  great  and  rich 
give  away  in  high  places.  Enough  for  me  to  cast  my 
poor  offering  into  the  treasury  unseen ; "  with  only  the 
6 


122  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

handsome  parson  or  fashionable  doctor  to  act  as  recording  . 
angel. 

What  will  you  have  ?  Twenty  pounds  a  year  among 
printed  donations  of  twice,  thrice,  four  times  that  amount 
go  for  nothing  in  the  charitable  city  where  Mrs.  Tudor 
lived.  But  twenty  pounds  a  year  divided  into  widows' 
mites  in  private  life  keep  up  a  handsome  reputation  for 
unostentatious  alms-giving.  Mrs.  Tudor  knew  her  gene- 
ration, and  was  wise  with  its  wisdom.  Every  one  said 
Mrs.  Tudor  was  &  charming  old  woman :  I  think  every 
one,  except  her  family  and  dependents,  really  liked  her. 
When  she  stabbed  your  absent  friends  she  did  it  with  a 
delicacy  that  belongs  only  to  long  and  refined  experience. 
The  coarse  blow  of  a  common  assassin  for  ever  reminds 
you  that  if  you  too,  have  a  purse,  and  take  your  eye  from 
him,  you  shall  fall.  Mrs.  Tudor  always  perfbrmed  her 
cruel  office  out  of  the  depth  of  her  regard  for  her  imme- 
diate listener.  "With  your  dear  girls  visiting  at  her 
house,  should  I  do  right  to  conceal  it  from  you  ?  "  "  As 
the  pastor  and  guardian  of  your  flock,  ought  you  not  to 
be  told  ? "  "  With  your  back  garden  close  upon  their 
area,  should  I  —  should  I  be  a  friend  if  I  remained 
silent?"  And  all  the  slaughtered  character  forthwith 
rose  up  in  the  light  of  necessary  victims  offered  up  by 
Mrs.  Tudor  at  the  altar  of  Spartan  principle  and  friend- 
ship. 

Her  flattery  was  as  good  as  her  scandal.  The  same 
delicate  flavor  of  well-bred  discrimination  made  it  pala- 
table, even  in  inordinately  large  doses.  To  tell  a  woman 
of  forty  that  she  is  young  and  charming  would  be  simply^ 
gross ;  but  to  say,  "  My  dear  friend,  I  have  something  I 
really  grieve  to  talk  to  you  about :  I  don't  know  how  you 
will  take  it,  but  as  an  old  woman  who  had  done  with  life 
before  you  began  it,  I  feel  that  I  must  speak.  All  the 
world  is  talking  of  that^poor  fellow's  evident  infatuation 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  123 

for  you.  He  is  but  a  boy  —  spare  him  !  tell  his  mother 
to  send  him  to  London  —  anything.  You  are  not  offend- 
ed, now,  are  you  ?  No  ;  I  knew  you  could  not  be  ! "  To 
say  this  is  to  possess  a  charming  refined  nature  even 
when  saying  disagreeable  things.  This  was  Mrs.  Tudor's 
style  of  flattery. 

She  called  herself  old  ;  and  she  was  very  old,  even  for 
the  city  of  sempiternelles  where  she  lived  ;  but  she  held 
old  age  at  bay  more  stoutly  I  really  believe  than  any 
other  woman  of  her  age  extant.  She  was  a  model  of  good 
making-up.  I  can  never  see  the  justice  of  condemning, 
wholesale,  all  women  who  paint.  Condemn  them  utterly 
if  they  paint  badly ;  but  give  homage  due  to  all  success- 
ful works  of  real  art.  Mrs.  Tudor  was  extraordinarily 
well  done.  Her  hair  was  a  dark  iron-grey,  not  any  of 
those  blacks  and  chestnuts  that  every  shifting  light  can 
convert  into  prisms  of  red,  green,  and  purple ;  her  eye- 
brows were  marked  by  one  dark  yet  perfectly  delicate 
line ;  her  cheeks  bore  the  faintest  roseate  tinge  that  the 
genius  of  Paris  (assisted  by  after  processes  of  her  own) 
could  supply ;  her  teeth,  her  figure,  were  all  triumphs  of 
imitative  art.  The  most  difficult  part  of  the  picture,  and 
one  in  which  so  many  inferior  artists  fail,  the  old,  wrinkled, 
sapless  hands  were  never  shown  without  gloves.  I  re- 
peat it,  Mrs.  Tudor  was  well  done ;  and  whether  she,  or 
Wilson,  or  the  mere  artificers  from  whence  her  charms 
came  in  gross,  possessed  the  greater  genius,  I  hold  that 
the  result  of  so  much  thought,  and  choice,  and  patient, 
unfaltering  every-day  labor  was  a  thing  to  be  respected. 

But  cultivation  is  required  for  all  high  taste  in  art. 
When  Esther  Fleming  first  found  herself  again  in  Mrs. 
Tudor's  presence,  the  vision  of  a  painted  and  galvanized 
corpse  tottering  forward  to  meet  her  with  deathly  spright- 
liness  carne  upon  her  with  even  more  awful  clearness  than 
it  had  used  to  do  when  she  was  a  child.  All  the  painful 


124  THE,  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

processes  by  which  Mrs.  Tudor's  rejuvenescence  had  been 
won  —  the  dentistry,  the  dyeing,  the  daily  paddings  and 
powderings  and  paintings  for  well-nigh  half  a  century, 
were  mysteries  too  occult  for  Esther's  mind  to  unravel) 
or  even  marvel  over.  She  liked  her  Aunt  Engleheart's 
face,  white  and  still  as  death  itself;  all  passion  and  un- 
rest quenched  out  of  it  by  long  years  of  poverty  and  Miss 
Joan.  She  liked  to  see  that  old  face,  with  the  venerable 
white  hair  and  the  little  close-frilled  cap,  as  the  evening 
light  fell  on  it  through  the  branches  of  the  thorn-tree  by 
the  porch  ;  to  see  the  folded  withered  hands  lying  peace- 
fully at  rest ;  the  whole  little,  worn,  bent  form  just  as 
though  waiting,  patient  and  quiescent  for  death  to  come. 
This  was  the  poetry  of  extreme,  helpless  old  age ;  and 
Esther  often  at  such  times  had  spoken  under  her  breath, 
half  in  awe  of  the  frail  still  life  so  barely  withheld  from 
the  final  stillness  of  death  itself.  But  Mrs.  Tudor !  Mrs. 
Tudor,  sprightly  and  roseate  and  alert !  All  the  girl's  old 
childish  horror  of  "something  coming  off"  rushed  across 
her  mind  as  she  remembered  she  would  have  to  kiss  Mrs. 
Tudor's  cheek ;  and  every  one  of  the  little  affectionate 
speeches  she  had  been  preparing  on  her  journey  forsook 
her  memory. 

Aunt  Thalia's  warmth  of  heart  was  equal,  however,  to 
all  occasions  —  even  domestic  ones.  "Esther  my  dear, 
dear  child ! "  arid  then,  much  to  Esther's  relief,  the  great- 
est difficulty  of  meeting  was  got  over  by  Mrs.  Tudor  her- 
self depositing  a  very  long  but  circumspect  kiss  upon  her 
cheek.  "  So  grown  I  should  scarce  have  recognized  you ! 
Wilson,  has  not  Miss  Fleming  grown  ?  Two  shillings  for 
bringing  you  from  the  railway  ?  Certainly  not.  Esther 
love,  I  insist  upon  your  not  paying  more  than  eighteen- 
pence  ;  and  let  him  carry  up  Miss  Fleming's  luggage  to  her 
apartment  before  he's  paid.  Wilson,  the  small  upper  room 
that  faces  the  sea.  I  knew  my  dear  niece  would  not  mind 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  125 

mounting  a  little  high,"  she  whispered  to  Esther,  as  Wil- 
son, very  rustling  and  dignified,  marched  out  of  the  room. 
"  Yon  princess  in  black  silk  would  have  been  sour  to  me 
for  a  month  if  I  had  dared  dispossess  her  of  hers ;  and 
my  dear  Esther's  little  feet  are  too  young  to  know  wheth- 
er they  run  up  one  or  two  flights  of  stairs  at  a  time." 

Mrs.  Tudor  embraced  her  again,  but  without  more  kiss- 
es :  these  risks  were  only  incurred  under  the  indispensable 
press  of  affection  at  coming  and  going  :  and  then  Esther  re- 
marked that  she  did  not  care  at  all  where  she  slept,  and 
would  be  very  sorry  indeed  to  put  Wilson  out  in  any  way. 

"  And  how  is  my  dear  sister?  Sit  down,  my  love,  and 
unloose  your  bonnet-strings.  How  is  my  dear  sister  Ce- 
celia? You  wouldn't  have  a  glass  of  wine,  Esther,  after 
your  journey,  now  —  would  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  Aunt  Thalia.     I  never  take  wine." 

"  Dear  child  !  so  natural !  You  are  very  little  altered, 
love,  except  in  height.  I  take  an  early  dinner,  you  must 
know,  Esther;  my  doctor  here  desires  it,  and  so  I  obey, 
but  it  breaks  in  upon  my  habits  sadly  ;  then  about  seven 
I  drink  tea.  Now  what  will  you  have  ? "  Mrs.  Tudor 
looked  extraordinarily  genial  and  hospitable.  "  What  will 
you  have  ?  They  can  get  you  a  chop  in  a  minute."  And 
she  stretched  her  hand  out,  figuratively,  towards  the 
bell. 

"  I  would  much  rather  have  nothing  but  tea,"  said  Es- 
ther. "  I  am  not  hungry  —  I  mean  not  very  —  I  had  my 
dinner  on  the  road." 

"Now  do  you  mean  it,  my  love  ?  do  you  positively  mean 
it  ?  I  will  never  forgive  you  if  you  don't  make  yourself 
perfectly  at  home  while  you  are  with  me.  Well,  then,  we 
will  have  tea  at  once.  And,  Wilson,"  to  that  potentate 
who  had  now  re-entered  the  room,  "  bid  Mrs.  Sims  send 
up  the  cold  duck,  if  you  please  ;  it  will  be  just  the  thing  for 
my  niece  after  her  long  journey.  Wilson  will  take  you  to 


126  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

your  room,  Esther.  I  would  go  myself,  only  that  my  good 
doctor  tells  me  I  must  refrain  as  much  as  possible  from 
walking  upstairs." 

And  then  Mrs.  Wilson,  condescendingly  bland,  but  still 
with  the  kind  of  manner  which  she,  as  a  servant,  natural- 
ly felt  to  Esther  as  a  poor  relation,  conducted  her  to  her 
room  on  the  third  floor  —  a  three-cornered  apartment  with 
a  sloping  roof,  a  bed  the  size  of  a  coffin,  and  a  window 
from  whence  you  had  a  very  nice  side-view  of  the  sea  if 
you  sat  upon  the  floor. 

"  You  find  your  aunt  a  good  deal  changed,  no  doubt, 
Miss  Fleming  ?  "  remarked  the  lady's-maid,  fidgeting  about 
the  strings  of  one  of  Esther's  cases,  but  obviously  only 
giving  herself  a  pretext  to  stop  and  talk.  "  Even  I,  that 
am  with  her  constant,  can  see  it  only  too  plain.  She's 
pitched  away  extraordinary  the  last  three  months,  miss." 

Esther  could  see  no  particular  change,  she  answered. 
She  thought,  perhaps,  that  her  Aunt  Thalia's  was  not  a 
face  to  show  illness  much. 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  Wilson,  drily.  "  Appearances  are 
deceitful;  but  then  you  must  remember  I  see -missus  at 
all  times,  Miss  Fleming.  Thinner  !  Why,  bless  you,  she's 
gone  away  to  half  what  she  were  before  her  last  attack. 
I've  took  in  all  her  dresses  without  her  knowing  it ;  and 
she  thinks,  sometimes,  she's  getting  stout  again,  and  tells 
the  doctor  so ;  but  I  know  better.  I  wish  some  of  them, 
or  some  one  belonging  to  her,  would  tell  her  a  little  truth 
about  her  health,  Miss  Fleming,  and  then,  perhaps  she 
wouldn't  kill  herself — dressing  and  racketing  and  sitting 
up  late  at  night  as  she  do  —  kill  herself,  and  I  may  truly 
say,  kill  all  those  who  have  to  wait  upon  her  too ! " 

Mrs.  Wilson  pressed  her  hand  with  much  feeling  upon 
the  region  of  her  left  lung,  and  laid  her  head  on  one  side 
with  a  sigh.  It  was  evident  that  to  her  own  mind  her 
twenty-five  pounds  a  year  were  no  equivalent  whatever  to 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  127 

the  disadvantages  of  being  in  Mrs.  Tudor's  intimate  em- 
ploy and  favor. 

"What  sort  of  illness  has  she  had?"  she  proceeded, 
when  Esther  had  inquired  into  the  nature  of  her  mistress's 
last  attack ;  "  why  you  don't  mean  to  say  your  aunt  nev- 
er wrote  you  word  that  she'd  had  a  stroke  ?  " 

"A  stroke!"  interrupted  Esther,  looking  grave  and 
shocked.  "  Oh,  Wilson  !  you  surely  can't  mean ?  " 

"Yes,  I  do  miss.  I  mean  a  stroke  of  paralysis.  I 
lived  with  the  old  Countess  of  Davenport  up  to  her 
death,  and  I  knew  directly  I  saw  your  aunt's  face  she  was 
going  to  be  taken  like  her  ladyship.  She  was  a  mistress, 
if  you  like,  Miss  Fleming.  Thirty-six  pounds  a  year  and 
the  best  of  perquisites,  and  a  under  maid  kept  on  pur- 
pose to  set  up  and  unlace  the  dresses  at  night ;  because 
her  ladyship  said  from  the  first,  c  Mrs.  Wilson,'  her 
ladyship  says  to  me,  CI  see  that  your  'ealths  delicate, 
and '" 

"And  Aunt  Thalia,  Wilson?  Please  tell  me  about 
Aunt  Thalia's  illness." 

"  Well,  Miss  Fleming,  it  was  after  an  At  Home  at  our 
own  house ;  and  missus  and  me  was  putting  away  some 
of  the  ornaments,  when  she  cried  out  suddent,  'Wilson ! ' 
and  tottered  back  a  step  or  two,  and  fell  on  the  sofa  — 
«o  !  "  And  Mrs.  Wilson  went  through  a  little  impromptu 
rehearsal,  with  great  gusto  upon  the  coffin  bed  !  "  I  knew 
what  it  was  in  a  minute,  miss  —  the  thick  way  of  speak- 
ing, and  dull  eyes,  and  stiff  hands,  and  all  the  rest  of  it 
—  and  I  got  her  undressed  ;  and  Miss  Whitty,  the  —  the 
person  who  lodges  underneath  us,  you  know  —  sent  for 
the  doctor.  And  he  knew  what  it  was,  Miss  Fleming, 
just  as  well  as  I  did  ;  and  Mrs.  Tudor,  she  knew  what  it 
was,  too ;  but  we  made  light  of  the  whole  matter;  and 
none  of  us  ever  called  the  attack  by  its  right  name,  and 
we  don't  now.  When  missus  speaks  about  it,  she  says, 


128  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

*  That  time  I  was  a  little  faint  and  giddy,  you  know, 
Wilson.'  And  I  say  the  same ;  and  so  must  you,  of 
course,  if  your  aunt  should  happen  to  mention  it." 

"And  Aunt  Thalia  goes  out  to  parties  as  much  as 
ever  ?  "  cried  Esther.  "  How  can  she  care  about  them 
after  such  a  fearful  warning  ?  " 

"  Ah ! "  ejaculated  JVlrs.  Wilson,  piously,  and  suddenly 
remembering  the  pain  above  her  heart.  "Ah!  there's 
no  saying  what  those  that  belong  to  this  world  wouldn't 
do  to  escape  out  of  themselves  and  their  own  tempers 
and  fancies !  I  agreed  to  accept  your  aunt's  situation  on 
the  highest  of  recommendations,  Miss  Fleming.  The 
Dean  of  Sarum's  lady  (who  has  known  me  since  I  was 
that  high,  and  all  my  family,  too,)  begged  me  herself  to 
take  it ;  and  though  I  had  never  lived  out  of  the  first  of 
establishments  before,  I  was  willing  to  do  so  because  of 
all  your  aunt  said  about  my  having  my  time  to  myself. 
Time !  why,  I'd  sooner  live  with  the  Countess  of  Daven- 
port again  on  half  the  wages,  and  wait  on  the  three  young 
ladies  besides,  than  be  where  I  am,  Miss  Fleming.  Morn- 
ing, noon,  and  night,  I  haven't  a  moment  to  myself:  your 
aunt  wants  a  nurse,  miss,  as  well  as  a  maid.  And  though 
I'd  do  as  much  as  my  strength  allowed  for  a  fellow- 
creature" —  Mrs.  Wilson  assumed  the  air  of  a  trampled 
but  forgiving  martyr  —  "a  fellow-creature  in  real  illness, 
I  don't  consider  myself  called  upon  to  set  up  o'  nights 
for  people  that  are  out  at  routs  and  card-parties,  and  then 
to  have  to  make  their  sick-messes,  and  carry  their  air- 
cushion,  and  put  up  with  their  humors  by  day !  Not 
without  extra  wages,  Miss  Fleming  !  I  read  my  Bible, 
and  I  hope  I  perform  my  'umble  duties  as  a  Christian, 
but  I  know  what  service  is."  - 

"  And  this  is  the  woman  we  have  been  told  is  such  a 
treasure,"  thought  Esther,  when  Mrs.  Wilson,  after  this 
Jittle  exposition  of  her  opinions  respecting  her  own  worth, 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  129 

had  left  her  alone.  "Her  great,  lonely,  fine-furnished 
rooms,  and  this  woman,  with  her  heartlessness  and  dis- 
content, are  the  nearest  approach  to  a  home  that  Aunt 
Thalia  has.  I  am  glad  to  think  Mrs.  Engleheart  will  die 
poor  and  quiet  and  unpretending  at  Countisbury,  and 
have  Joan,  with  all  her  faults  to  wait  upon  her  to  the 
last." 

She  felt  her  heart  almost  warm  towards  Mrs.  Tudor 
when  she  joined  her  again  down  stairs.  There  was  some- 
thing within  her  that  instinctively  recognized  and  respect- 
ed the  courage  of  this  old  woman  of  the  world  in  neither 
shrinking  from,  nor  seeking  sympathy  under,  the  dark 
shadow  that  had  fallen  upon  her.  If  it  was  courage 
wrongly  shown  (cards,  rouge,  parties,  instead  of  calm 
meditation  and  solemn  retrospect,)  it  was  courage  still ; 
the  same  stout  nerve  that  had  upheld  Joan  Engleheart 
during  so  many  years  of  unpitied,  unassisted  poverty;  the 
same  strong,  enduring  power  that,  simple  and  youthful 
though  she  was,  lay  dormant  in  Esther's  own  breast. 
Yes,  she  looked  at  the  old  bland  face  that  had  met  the 
forerunner  of  a  fearful  death  just  with'  the  same  well- 
bred  insouciance  it  would  have  shown  to  any  other  dis- 
agreeable but  unavoidable  visitor,  and,  for  the  first  time 
in  her  life,  felt  that  she  and  Mrs.  Tudor  were  of  one  kin. 

"  You  distress  me,  iny  love,  by  eating  so  little.  Really 
you  ought  to  have  something  more  substantial  after  your 
long  journey  —  a  poached  egg,  now?  You  are  quite 
sure  ?  I  meant  you  to  have  some  cold  duck,  and,  oh,  rny 
dear  Esther  !  what  do  you  think  ?  " 

Esther,  of  course,  expressed  her  inability  to  have  any 
idea  whatever. 

"I  asked  the  woman  of  the  house  to  send  it  up,  and 
she  informed  rne  my  maid  had  eaten  it  for  her  own  early 
tea  —  the  whole  of  one  wing,  and  some  delicious  slices 
on  the  back.  And  she  knows  that  if  there's  one  thing 


130  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

more  than  another  that  is  likely  to  tempt  me  it's  a  morsel 
of  cold  duck." 

Esther  laughed.  "  Wilson  knows  what  is  likely  to 
tempt  herself,  no  doubt,"  she  remarked.  "  Most  servants 
do." 

"  She  is,"  Mrs.  Tudor  lowered  her  voice,  and  looked 
with  meaning  (as  confidential  persons  upon  the  stage  in- 
variably look  round,  but  fail  to  see  the  infernal  villain 
crouched  under  the  pastebord  portico,  at  least  two  yards 
and  a  half  from  their  side)  towards  the  door  :  "  she  is  the 
greediest,  the  falsest,  the  most  rapacious,  odious  woman 
that  I  verily  believe  ever  drew  breath  even  amidst  servants. 
I  keep  her  because  the  Dean  of  Sarum's  wife  recommended 
her,  and  because  she  understands  her  business,  and  does  not 
rob  me  very  outrageously;  but  her  appetite  !  Oh,  my  dear 
child !  I  often  think  what  I  have  to  go  through  at  the 
hands  of  all  my  maids  is  my  punishment,  in  the  flesh,  for 
caring  about  worldly  vanities  in  my  old  age.  And,  speak- 
ing of  vanities,  where  did  you  have  that  dress  made  you 
have  on?  —  not  in  the  wilds  of  Devonshire,  I  am  sure." 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Thalia,  in  the  wilds  of  Devonshire.  Joan 
and  I  made  it  from  the  pattern  of  the  white  one  I  had  at 
school." 

"  Ah,  dear,  good  Joan ! "  remarked  Mrs.  Tudor,  evi- 
dently just  remembering  her  niece's  "existence.  "Dear, 
good,  useful,  industrious  Joan !  how  is  she  ?  and  my  sis- 
ter? You  have  not  told  me  one  word  yet,  love,  as  to 
how  my  dear  sister  is  looking  ?  " 

"Aunt  Engleheart  never  seems  to  change,  to  me,"  an- 
swered Esther.  "  She  looks  just  as  weak  and  pale  and 
quiet  as  she  did  when  I  first  went  to  Countisbury  ;  but 
she  can  dress  herself  still;  and  twice  this  summer  she 
has  walked  to  church  and  back." 

"  Poor  dear  Cecelia  !  She  was  never  very  strong.  I 
should  like  extremely  to  go  and  see  her  if  I  could  ;  but  I 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        131 

am  afraid  the  excitement  would  be  too  much  for  her. 
We  were  always  so  passionately  attached  to  each 
other!"  They  had  not  met,  or  sought  to  meet,  for  the 
last  twenty  years.  "  She  was  blonde,  you  know,  and  I 
brune ;  and  the  difference  in  age  used  not  to  show  then 
as  it  must  now.  Blondes  always  fade  all  at  once  when 
they  do  fade.  That  is  a  dedommagement  to  dark  women, 
my  love  ;  for,  looking  old  when  they  are  young,  they  wear 
better  when  their  first  beaute  du  diable  is  over.  How  old 
are  you,  Esther?  —  I  forget  —  fifteen,  sixteen ?  Which 
is  it?" 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Thalia !  I  am  past  eighteen.  And  Joan 
and  David  both  think  I  look  two  or  three  years  older 
than  that." 

"David!  What  is  David?  Whom  are  you  talking 
of,  child  ?  I  thought  you  had  no  acquaintance  among 
those  savage  wilds." 

"  But  David  Engleheart,  ma'am  ;  my  cousin  David  ! " 

"  Never  say  *  ma'am  '  again,  Esther,  I  beg.  It  does  not 
sound  vulgar  from  you,  but  it  is  old-fashioned  and  pro- 
vincial. Call  me  your  Aunt  Tudor,  or  your  Aunt 
Thalia,  or  even  Mrs.  Tudor,  but  never  ma'am.  Will 
you  remember  ?  " 

«  Yes,  Aunt  Thalia." 

"  And  now,  if  you  have  really  eaten  as  much  as  you 
wish,  love  "  (Esther  had  eaten  nothing,)  we  will  go  and 
finish  our  chat  by  the  open  window.  Yes,  sit  on  the 
footstool.  I  like  to  see  you  so ;  the  pose  is  good.  Put 
your  left  arm  a  little  lower,  and  turn  your  face  up  towards 
me.  That  is  right.  Do  you  know  you  are  really  very 
like  your  great-grandfather  ?  You  have  just  poor  dear 
Garratt's  eyes,  but  you  have  not  the  family  chin.  There 
you  are  a  Vincent.  Your  poor  mother  was  a  pretty  little 
woman,  but  without  the  slightest  style.  Do  you  re- 
member her  ?  " 


132  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Only  a  little,"  answered  Esther.  "  I  remember  she 
was  very  white  and  tired-looking,  and  hardly  ever  took 
me  in  her  arms  or  had  me  in  the  sitting-room  to  play  with 
her ;  but  that  is  all.  I  remember  my  father  much  the 
best." 

"  Quite  right,  my  dear  Esther ;  quite  right.  Your 
mother's  family  were  very  nice  people  —  very  nice  peo- 
ple indeed  in  their  own  way ;  but  there  is  no  occasion  for 
us  to  remember  them.  I  am  glad  to  find  you  growing  up 
such  a  complete  Fleming.  When  I  saw  you  last  I  was 
really  distressed  about  your  voice  and  manners,  but  you 
have  immensely  improved  now.  School  has  softened  you 
down." 

"I  am  glad  you  think  so,"  said  Esther.  "I  was  afraid 
I  learnt  very  little  for  all  the  money  it  cost.  I  am  not 
brilliant,  Aunt  Thalia.  Years  ago  I  used  to  think  I 
should  be  a  genius,  able  to  write  books  and  do  all  sorts  of 
things.  I  rate  my  own  abilities  much  more  truly  now." 

"  I  did  not  send  you  to  school  to  learn  lessons,  Esther, 
but  to  acquire  style  and  manner.  You  have  learnt  quite 
enough,  I  have  no  doubt,  with  Joan  at  home.  What  you 
want  now  is  to  know  how  to  hide  your  learning  and  be 
agreeable  in  the  world.  Men  don't  like  clever  women  ; 
always  remember  that.  Softness,  liveliness,  grace,  are  the 
qualities  you  must  strive  after." 

Esther  thought  of  Oliver,  of  her  never-ceasing,  uneasy 
sense  of  her  own  superiority  to  him,  and  sighed.  "  I  am 
sure  you  are  right  there,"  she  remarked.  "  I  often  wish 
I  was  more  soft  and  yielding  than  I  am." 

"Then  you  wish  a  very  foolish  thing,  let  me  tell  you, 
Esther,"  said  Mrs.  Tudor.  "  Seem  as  soft  as  you  choose, 
but  thank  Providence  for  having  made  you  really  strong. 
You  will  want  all  your  strength  some  day,  depend  upon 
it.  A  graceful,  feminine  manner,  and  perfect  reliance  in 
herself  are  what  a  young  woman  needs  to  obtain  success 
in  society." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         133 

"  I  don't  care  a  bit  for  success  in  society.  I  wish  to 
have  real  success  —  I  mean  I  wish  to  be  really  lovable." 

Mrs.  Tudor  looked  hard  at  her  great-niece's  candid, 
flushed  face,  and  laughed.  "  You  are  full  of  sentiment,  I 
can  see,"  she  observed,  "  in  spite  of  Joan  having  had  you 
in  her  hands  so  long.  Wait  until  you  have  seen  a  little 
more  of  the  world,  and  you  will  become  like  the  other 
young  people  of  this  generation  —  like  your  friends  the 
Miss  Dashwoods,  for  example.  I  wonder  knowing  them 
has  not  put  all  romantic  fancies  out  of  your  head ! " 

"But  Jane  ought  to  be  very  romantic  just  now."  Es- 
tner  felt  somewhat  conscience-stricken  as  she  put  forth 
this  remark.  "  I  suppose  you  know  she  is  engaged  ?  " 

"To  whom?" 

"  To  —  to  Mr.  Chichester,  I  believe.  I  know  nothing  of 
him." 

"  What  are  you  getting  red  for,  child?" 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,  Aunt  Thalia.  It  is  a  dread- 
fully foolish  habit  of  mine.  I  —  I  do  wish  I  could  get 
over  it,"  Miss  Fleming  added,  indignantly,  and  then  she 
blushed  crimson  indeed. 

"  No  sign  of  modesty  looks  ill  in  a  young  person,"  said 
Mrs.  Tudor,  complacently.  "  As  long  as  you  are  under 
twenty  no  one  will  think  worse  of  you  for  blushing,  and 
you  will  find  it  a  habit  that  time  soon  cures.  Who  told 
you  Jane  Dashwood  was  to  marry  Paul  Chichester  ?  " 

"  Pier  sister  Millicent.  She  speaks  of  it  in  all  her  let- 
ters as  a  regular  engagement.  Colonel  Dashwood  lets 
Mr.  Chichester  come  to  the  house  as  often  as  he  chooses." 

"  Colonel  Dashwood  lets  most  unmarried  men  do  that, 
Esther ;  and  in  the  rare  cases  where  he  does  not,  the  Miss 
Dashwoods  save  their  lovers  any  trouble  by  meeting  them 
elsewhere.  I  have  seen  a  good  many  of  Miss  Dash  wood's 
flirtations  during  the  last  five  years,  although  my  acquaint- 
ance with  the  family,  child,  is  of  the  slightest  description. 


134  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Understand  that.  A  formal  offer  and  declension  of  civili- 
ty once  a  year,  an  exchange  of  cards  in  the  interval. 
The  lad  to  whom  she  engaged  herself  when  she  first 
came  out,  Anther  Peel,  is  the  nephew  of  one  my  most  inti- 
mate friends,  and  I  happen  to  know  exactly  how  the  Dash- 
woods  first  entangled  and  afterwards  discarded  him.  Then 
came  George  Lawless ;  then  Major  Burroughs.  I  know 
every  particular  about  them  both.  Lawless  paid  old 
Dashwood  eleven  hundred  pounds  to  get  off  at  the  last 
moment ;  and  now  this  last  ridiculous  affair  with  Paul 
Chichester !  I  have  seen  her  walking  about  with  him, 
and  looking  up  into  his  face  as  she  has  done  with  a  dozen 
other  men  before  him  ;  but  an  engagement  —  bah  !  Paul 
Chichester  may  be  eccentric,  but  he  is  not  quite  such  a 
fool  as  to  take  one  of  Colonel  Dash  wood's  daughters 
without  a  penny,  and  with  their  reputation,  for  his  wife." 

"  And  what  is  this  Mr.  Chichester  like,  himself?  I  —  I 
feel  a  kind  of  interest  in  him,  you  know,  as  Jane's  lover  ; 
but  the  Dashwoods  give  such  conflicting  accounts  of  him 
that  I  can  form  no  picture  to  myself  either  of  his  manner 
or  his  face." 

"Never  speak  of  forming  a  picture  to  yourself,  child  : 
it  sounds  pedantic.  You  want  to  know  what  Paul  Chi- 
chester is  like  ?  Well,  you  will  be  able  to  judge  for  your- 
self: he  is  here  in  Weyrnouth."  Involuntarily  Esther 
blushed  again.  "He  was  speaking  to  me  on  the  walk  to- 
day. A  very  good  style  he  has ;  far  better,  in  spite  of 
his  threadbare  coat,  than  two-thirds  of  the  young  men 
one  meets.  I  told  him  I  was  quite  sure  from  the  likeness 
about  the  upper  part  of  his  face  that  he  was  a  son  of  Hilde- 
brand  Chichester,  and,  although  he  evidently  shunned  the 
subject,  he  did  not  deny  it ;  and  that  convinces  me  that 
he  is  the  son  whom  I  believed  to  have  been  dead,  or  to 
have  gone  abroad,  years  and  years  ago.  They  were  a 
strange  family  always,  the  Chichesters,"  went  on  Mrs. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         135 

Tudor.  "If  the  stories  that  go  about  them  are  true, 
Hildebrand  Chichester  and  his  son  were  about  the 
strangest  of  them  all." 

"  What  are  these  stories,  Aunt  Thalia  ?  " 

"  Nothing  that  can  interest  you,  child ;  nothing,  at  all 
events,  that  it  would  profit  you  to  repeat  to  the  Miss 
Dash  woods." 

Esther  flushed  up  indignantly.  I  repeat  nothing  that 
is  told  me.  I  should  like  to  have  heard,  simply  because 
I  like  listening  to  old  family  stories,  and  —  and  be- 
cause you  tell  things  in  a  way  that  interests  one,  Aunt 
Thalia.  But  don't  say  a  word  if  you  mistrust  me.  Nev- 
er say  anything  of  other  people  as  long  as  I  stay  in  your 
house  if  you  think  I  am  such  a  child  that  I  cannot  be 
trusted  with  a  secret." 

"And  if  I  tell  you  what  I  know  about  Paul  Chiches- 
ter, you  will  never  breathe  a  syllable  of  it  to  those  little 
fools  the  Dashwood  girls?  never  let  the  man  himself, 
when  you  come  to  be  acquainted  with  him,  have  the  faint- 
est idea  that  you  know  more  of  him  than  of  a  stranger  ? 
Don't  answer:  I  read  your  face,  child.  You  believe  that 
you  could  be  discreet  as  age,  silent  as  death,  and  up  to 
a  certain  point  I  believe  you  would.  At  all  events,  as  a 
little  test  of  your  powers,  also  because  I  don't  really  care 
a  straw  whether  it  is  repeated  or  not,  I  will  tell  you  the 
story.  There  is  madness  in  a  good  many  of  our  old  English 
families,  Esther — I  suppose  that  is  a  fact  you  have  chanced 
to  come  across  in  some  of  your  studies  with  Joan  —  more 
especially,  I  have  noticed,  amongst  those  of  the  extreme 
north  and  extreme  south  of  the  kingdom.  The  Chiches- 
ters  come  from  the  border,  and  are  not  without  their  share 
of  the* aristocratic  inheritance — the  '  skeleton,'  "  cried  Mrs. 
Tudor,  pleasantly,  "  that  mews  and  crouches  in  the  unseen 
closet  of  so  many  a  rich  man's  house;  the  spectre  that  is 
sought  in  vain  to  be  kept  at  bay  by  men  of  science  and  art 


136  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

and  medicine,  and  yet  that  is  ever  hovering  over  every 
christening-feast,  every  marriage-breakfast,  in  which  any 
child  of  the  ill  fated  house  has  past." 

"  But  not  —  not  on  him  ?  "  broke  from  Esther's  lips  as 
she  leant  forward  and  looked,  almost  with  a  shudder,  into 
Mrs.  Tudor's  bland  face.  "  This  horrible  calamity  has 
not  fallen  upon  Paul  ?  " 

"  Don't  look  so  excited,  child,  or  I  shall  tell  you  no 
more.  It  doesn't  matter  to  you.  No  Fleming  has  ever 
been  known  to  be  even  eccentric  ;  and  as  for  the  Vincents, 
families  like  the  Vincents  never  are  mad,  I  have  remark- 
ed. Poor,  good  people,  they  are  quite  enough  of  every- 
thing else,  I  am  sure,  without  that !  Where  had  I  got 
to  ?  Ah  !  I  know  —  the  Chichesters  have  not  been  with- 
out their  share  of  the  aristocratic  inheritance.  They  are 
a  very  old  family  —  not  in  any  way  connected  with  the 
Dorsetshire  Chichesters,  Esther,  remember  that.  I  must 
impress  upon  you  the  absolute  importance  of  a  young 
woman  who  aspires  to  tone  distinctly  remembering  who 
every  human  being  is.  Sir  Hugh  Chichester,  of  Newton, 
the  great-grandfather  of  this  young  man,  married  the 
eldest  daughter  of  Lord  March,  and  from  that  time  until 
the  present  there  have,  I  believe,  been  only  two  decided 
cases  of  the  hereditary  complaint  among  them.  One, 
Maria  Chichester,  a  sister  of  Paul's  father,  who  died  quite 
young,  and  was  indeed  more  weak  of  intellect  than  pos- 
itively diseased  or  warped  ;  the  other  —  well,  Esther,  I 
will  not  shock  your  interest  in  the  reputed  lover  of  your 
friend's  sister  by  calling  Paul  Chichester  even  eccentric. 
Hildebrand  Chichester,  his  father,  was,  beyond  all  doubt,, 
wrong  in  his  mind  for  years." 

"  But  are  you  sure  he  is  this  Hildebrand  Chich eater's 
son  ?  That  he  did  not  deny  the  relationship  does  not 
actually  prove  that  the  relationship  exists." 

"Well  reasoned,  ma  petite;  but  he  not  only  did  not 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  137 

deny,  he  virtually  confessed  it.  When  his  father  was 
dead,  and  his  mother  married  again,  I  happened  to  stay 
with  some  friends  of  mine  in  Northumberland,  not  three 
miles  from  the  place  of  his  stepfather's  uncle,  old  Lord 
Feltham ;  and  speaking  to  Paul  Chichester  yesterday,  the 
whole  time  and  place  came  suddenly  before  me  —  the 
pink-and-white,  silly  beauty  of  his  mother  always  lying 
on  the  sofa,  and  appealing  to  her  husband  for  the  sympa- 
thy he  would  not  give ;  Paul  himself,  a  dark,  odd-looking 
child,  running  wild  about  the  place,  and  utterly  neglected 
for  the  sake  of  the  heir  of  Newton,  the  child  of  the  second 
marriage.  '  Your  Christian  name  is  Paul  ? '  I  said. 
'  Then  I  recollect  you  well.  When  you  were  eight  or 
nine  years  old  you  were  the  strangest,  the  most  unchild- 
like  child  I  ever  came  across.  Have  you  forgotten  ? ' 

"  He  looked  in  my  face  steadily,  and  said  '  No.'  He 
had  not  forgotten  one  stone  or  one  tree  of  Newton.  Then 
he  added,  'But  I  have  not  been  there.  I  have  not  spo- 
ken of  Newton  for  years,  nor  shall  I  ever  do  so  again 
while  I  live.  None  of  the  people  with  whom  I  associate 
now  belong  to  that  time  or  place,  or  know  that  I  belong 
to  it.'  And  then  he  turned  the  subject  resolutely,  and 
we  spoke  of  his  family  and  of  the  past  no  more." 

"  And  if  Mr.  Chichester  is  indeed  so  well  connected, 
how  comes  it  that  he  wears  a  threadbare  coat  ?  I  am 
very  ignorant,  Aunt  Thalia.  I  have  always  thought  that 
to  be  a  lord's  son,  or  a  lord's  stepson,  even,  would  insure 
one,  at  least,  enough  to  live  respectably  upon." 

"  Then  you  have  thought  great  nonsense,  child ;  and 
Paul  Chichester  was  never  the  stepson  of  a  lord.  His 
mother's  second  husband  died,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  about 
six  years  ago,  the  title  having  in  the  mean  time  gone  (on 
the  old  lord's  death)  to  his  cousin,  from  whom,  if  he  con- 
tinues childless,  it  will  of  course  come  to  Paul's  half- 
brother.  The  strange  part  of  the  story,  the  part  illuslrat- 


138  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

ing  the  Chichester  peculiarity,  I  am  now  going  to  tell  you. 
Although  Mrs.  Chichester  had  brought  nothing  into  the 
family  but  her  pretty  face  and  her  imbecility,  old  Lord 
Feltham  always  made  a  great  favorite  of  her^  and  on  his 
death-bed  requested  his  son  to  allow  her  —  her  husband 
was  already  ailing  —  to  remain  at  Newton.  This  wish 
was  carried  out,  and  not  only  this ;  Paul  Chichester  re- 
ceived, I  am  told,  an  excellent  education  at  the  present 
Lord  Feltham's  expense  (for  the  younger  branches  of  the 
Chichesters,  you  must  know,  are  absolutely  penniless. 
When  Paul's  mother  married  again  the  bridegroom  pre- 
sented her  with  the  very  dress  she  was  married  in). 
Well,  when  the  young  man  was  about  twenty  years  of 
age,  his  education  finished,  Lord  Feltham  about  to  present 
him  with  a  commission  in  the  army,  some  fearful  domes- 
tic altercation  took  place,  and  Paul  —  the  family  blood 
showing  —  ran  away  from  home,  or,  at  all  events,  swore  to 
them  all,  most  solemnly,  that  they  sbtould  see  his  face  no 
more,  and  left  them.  From  different  sources  I  have  heard 
of  him  afterwards  as  dead,  or  gone  to  the  colonies,  or 
roaming  about,  a  ruined  man,  upon  the  Continent.  But 
one  thinsr  I  am  certain  of —  neither  his  mother,  nor  Lord 

o  .  7 

Feltham,  nor  any  member  of  the  family,  have  ever  looked 
upon  his  face  again  from  that  day  to  this." 

"  And  you  know  nothing  more  of  the  cause  of  this 
quarrel  ?  It  must  have  been  no  common  thing  that  could 
make  a  young  lad  throw  up  all  his  prospects,  all  his  ties, 
at  the  very  beginning  of  life,  and  take  of  his  own  free  will 
to  loneliness  and  poverty." 

"  No  common  thing,  if  the  young  lad  had  been  of  per- 
fectly sane  mind,  Esther;  but  with  an  hereditary  tenden- 
cy like  that  of  the  Chichesters,  the  slightest,  the  most  un- 
founded suspicion  might  be  enough  to  make  him  take  up 
the  notion  that  all  his  family  were  in  league  against  him." 

"  And  does  his  manner  give  any  indication  of  his  in- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  139 

heriting  the  family  disease  ?  When  you  remember  him, 
years  ago,  was  he  like  other  children  ?  Aunt  Thalia,  the 
story  takes  possession  of  me.  I  feel  that,  while  I  wish  it, 
I  shall  yet  dread  to  become  acquainted  with  Mr.  Chiches- 
ter." 

"  In  which  feeling  you  show  your  extreme  ignorance  of 
the  world,  child.  Half  the  people  one  meets  have,  prob- 
ably, more  of  madness  in  their  brain,  certainly  more  in 
their  manner,  than  Paul  Chichester.  What  was  he  like 
as  a  child,  did  you  ask  me  ?  Well,  really,  you  know,  the 
subject  of  children  is  one  that  never  interests  me.  I  could 
not  bear  to  be  in  the  room  with  you,  my  love,  as  you  may 
recollect,  until  you  had  got  well  over  the  age  of  asking 
questions  and  upsetting  things.  Paul  Chichester  was  like 
other  children,  I  suppose  —  no,  I  recollect,  by-the-way,  he 
was  not.  He  was  taciturn.  He  used  to  come  in  after 
dinner  at  Newton  when  the  nurse  brought  in  his  brother, 
and,  none  of  the  family  ever  paying  him  the  slightest  at- 
tention, he  had  a  trick  of  standing  apart  from  us  all  and 
staring  with  his  great  dark  eyes  at  his  mother's  face  until 
the  young  heir  had  been  made  enough  of  and  fed,  of 
course,  with  all  the  unwholesome  things  upon  the  table. 
Let  us  speak  no  more  of  him,  child ! "  broke  off  Mrs.  Tu- 
dor, abruptly,  and  accompanying  the  remark  by  the  little 
deprecatory  toss  of  her  gloved  hands  with  which  it  was 
her  custom  to  throw  off,  as  it  were,  the  burthen  of  speak- 
ing of  anything,  or  any  person,  the  moment  it  no  longer 
amused  herself.  "I  have  so  much  still  to  hear  about  my 
dear  sister  and  her  health.  She  should  come  here  for  a 
change — really  you  would  not  believe,  Esther,  how  few 
people  I  have  met  here  whom  I  know.  Mrs.  Strangways, 
and  Paul  Chichester,  and  poor  good  Whitty,  who  is  com- 
ing to-night,  are  all.  I  have  mentioned  Miss  Whitty  to 
you,  of  course,  have  I  not? 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Thalia,  I  believe  so.  Is  he  —  is  Mr.  Chi- 
chester, I  mean  —  going  to  stop  in  Weymouth  ?" 


140  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  She  lives  in  the  dining-rooms  under  me.  I  call  hei 
my  spaniel.  She  is  a  good  creature  in  her  way,  but  tiring 
—  tiring  and  greedy.  If  she  could,  she  would  get  me  to 
give  all  my  old  dresses  to  her  instead  of  to  Wilson. 
Draw  the  curtain  aside,  Esther,  and  we  shall  see  the 
people  as  they  come  up  from  the  station.  Who  is  that 
riding  with  Mrs.  Strangways,  I  wonder!  —  hand  me  my 
opera-glasses,  child,  and  I  shall  see  better  —  young 
Orchard,  again,  positively.  How  ridiculous  the  poor  lad 
is  making  himself  with  that  woman  !  You  have  heard 
of  Mrs.  Strangways  from  the  Dash  woods  ?  She  and  Jane 
Dashwood  are  extremely  intimate,  and  I  should  say  ex- 
tremely well  matched." 

"  I  have  heard  Milly  say  they  are  intimate.  Do  you  — 
do  you  think  Mr.  Chichester  will  be  likely  to  stay  longer 
in  Weyinouth  ?  " 

"  She  is  looking  very  thin ;  she  has  lost  all  her  youth. 
That  is  invariably  the  way  with  blonde  women ;  they 
fade  in  six  months.  Celia  lost  her  complexion  twenty 
years,  at  least,  sooner  than  I  did.  I  looked  as  young  at 
five-and-thirty  as  you  do  now." 

It  was  hopeless  to  think  of  turning  aside  the  current 
of  Mrs.  Tudor's  thoughts,  especially  when  the  current  had 
set  back  towards  the  all-delicious  subject  of  her  own 
youthful  beauty.  Esther  gave  herself  up,  resignedly,  to 
listening  to  the  chronicles  of  fifty-year-old  charms  and 
conquests,  and  strove,  resolutely,  but  in  vain,  to  turn  away 
her  thoughts  from  Jane  Dash  wood's  lover  and  his  sombre 
history. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  FIRST  INFIDELITY. 

AND  what,  in  good  truth,  was  Paul  Chichester  to 
Esther  Fleming?  Why  had  Esther  Fleming,  in  love 
with  and  engaged  to  Oliver  Carew,  colored  guiltily  at  the 
mention  of  her  friend's  sister's  lover  ? 

The  reasons  for  emotion  so  unwarrantable,  and  of  which 
Miss  Fleming  herself  felt  so%  duly  ashamed,  were,  she  firm- 
ly believed,  to  be  found  in  certain  complex  sentiments 
set  forth  by  Miss  Millicent  Dash  wood's  last  letter ;  and  as 
I  feel  I  should  fail  in  expressing  these  sentiments  at  all 
accurately,  save  in  the  Dash  wood  language,  I  will  record 
simply  what  Milly  wrote. 

"  Jane  is  going  on  in  her  old  way  with  Arthur  Peel, 
who  is  hanging  out  at  present  at  the  Strangways.  I 
think  Mrs.  Strangways  makes  a  catspaw  of  Arthur  Peel, 
and  Miss  Dashwood  too  ;  but  clon't  repeat  that  I  said  so, 
for  it  would  make  Jenny  furious.  Paul  Chichester  is  in 
Bath  again,  and  seems  to  be  rather  relieved  than  other- 
wise at  seeing  Jane  sitting  out  half  the  night  with  Ar- 
thur on  the  staircase  at  balls.  I  should  not  like  my  lover 
to  be  so  amiable ;  but  my  own  opinion  is,  there  is  no  love 
at  all  between  any  of  them  —  except,  perhaps,  where  it 
would  be  better  dispensed  with.  By-the-by,  Jane  says 
she  is  sure  Paul  would  admire  you  extremely.  She  has 
learnt  some  very  odd  doctrines  lately  about  '  elective 
affinities'  (are  there  two  ff's  or  one?)  the  results  of 
which  seem  to  be  that  everybody  is  obliged  by  some 
moral  law  to  fall  in  love  with  precisely  the  people  they 
can't  marry.  Paul  is  not  your  style :  I  mean,  he  is  not 


142  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

broad-shouldered  and  chubby,  like  our  Swindon  Yiking; 
but,  for  a  dark  man,  he  is  very  handsome.  Jenny  puts 
back  the  hair  off  his  forehead,  and  says,  '  Really,  Mr.  Chi- 
chester,  you  have  quite  a  Vandyck  face.  I  admire  you 
extremely :  how  much  I  should  like  to  be  able  to  find 
some  one  worthy  of  you! '  So  like  Jane.  Then  she  will 
go  to  a  party  that  same  evening  and  talk  half  the  night  to 
Authur  Peel,  and  come  back,  poor  Jenny  !  and  cry  till 
daylight.  I  dare  say  you  and  Paul  won't  like  each  other 
at  all  when  you  meet ;  but  Jane  relies  on  her  '  elective ' 
theories,  and,  I  have  no  doubt  will  warn  Paul  to  fall  in 
love  with  you ;  the  best  way  in  the  world,  perhaps,  to 
prevent  him  from  doing  so.  You  poor,  dear,  old  Esther ! 
how  I  do  pity  you,  with  only  a  tender  recollection  of 
Swindon,  and  a  miraculously-proper  flirtation  with  cousin 
David  to  keep  you  from  stagnation  !  " 

Esther  had  put  down  some  of  the  nonsense  to  Milly's 
usual  flighty  style  of  writing ;  but  she  knew  enough  of 
the  Dashwood  girls  to  feel  that,  as  likely  as  not,  it  had  all 
been  repeated  to  Mr.  Chichester  himself;  and,  as  you 
have  seen,  she  had  not  sufficient  control  to  hinder  her 
cheeks  from  burning  at  his  name.  What  if  she  should 
meet  him,  be  introduced  to  him!  was  her  reflection  when 
at  last  she  had  escaped  from  Mrs.  Tudor's  endless  stories 
to  the  silence  of  her  own  little  attic.  Would  she  blush, 
with  this  same  contemptible  folly,  in  his  presence  ?  She 
who  had  been  able  to  speak  of  Oliver  without  her  face 
betraying  the  real  emotions  of  her  heart  to  color  in  this 
guilty  way  about  a  person  she  had  never  seen  —  a  per- 
son with  a  Yandyck  face,  and  whom  Mrs.  Tudor  consid- 
ered distinguished  ?  No  doubt,  a  pale,  effeminate,  vain 
creature,  the  exact  reverse  of  all  she  considered  manly 
and  admirable.  For  the  first  time  for  weeks  other 
thoughts  than  those  of  Oliver  were  floating  through 
Esther's  brain  before  she  went  to  sleep ;  and  when  she 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  143 

woke  next  morning  she  was  dimly  conscious  that  some- 
thing unconnected  with  Mr.  Carew  arid  Countisbury  had 
mingled  with  her  dreams. 

"  I  am  going  to  make  you  very  useful,"  Mrs.  Tudor  re- 
marked when,  at  eleven  o'clock,  blooming  and  airy  in  her 
fresh  morning  toilette,  she  joined  her  niece  in  the  drawing- 
room.  "  I  am  going  to  make  you  carry  my  book  and 
cushion  to  the  beach ;  and  then  we  can  dispense  alto- 
gether with  the  presence  of  Wilson.  How  are  you,  my 
love  ?  "  presenting  Esther,  for  an  icy  second,  two  gloved 
fingers  of  her  left  hand;  "Have  you  slept?  have  you 
recovered  from  your  journey  ?  That  is  well.  Now  run 
and  put  on  your  hat :  anything  will  do  for  the  beach,  my 
love ;  you  see  how  I  am  dressed." 

At  Countisbury,  Miss  Fleming's  custom  was  to  put  on 
her  hat  without  so  much  as  looking  in  the  glass ;  but  of 
course,  at  a  great  place  like  Weymouth,  any  human  being 
must  naturally  care  more  for  personal  appearanae  than 
among  the  lonely  Devonshire  moors.  When  she  had  put 
on  her  holland  jacket,  and  her  best  little  black  hat,  and 
the  narrow  black  velvet  round  her  throat,,  and  her  dark 
neat-fitting  gloves,  she  was  conscious  how  well  she  looked 
in  the  extreme  simplicity  of  her  dress;  and  half-guiltily 
she  started  from  the  pleasure  that  consciousness  awakened 
in  her. 

"You  only  want  an  umbrella  to  be  perfectly  well- 
dressed,"  Mrs.  Tudor  remarked,  as  she  scanned  her  niece's 
appearance  with  satisfaction.  "  I  told  you  to  put  on  any 
thing,  because  I  wanted  to  see  you  plainly  dressed.  It  is 
the  severest  test  of  a  young  woman's  taste.  Every  one 
can  look  well  en  toilette,  very  few  in  cotton  and  hollands. 
When  you  have  a  blue  umbrella  you  will  be  the  perfec- 
tion of  simple  style.  I  will  take  you  at  once  to  a  shop, 
and  make  you  a  present  of  one." 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  with  a  blue  umbrella,  Aunt  Tha- 
lia? the  weather  is  perfectly  fine." 


144  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  That  is  immaterial.  All  young  persons  of  distinction 
carry  blue  umbrellas  this  season.  You  need  not  put  it 
up  unless  you  choose ;  but  you  must  always  carry  it  in  the 
forenoon  — indeed,  I  should  say,  you  had  better  never  put 
it  up.  It  will  last  you  longer." 

So  they  went  to  a  shop  and  spent  sixteen  shillings  on 
this  indispensable  addition  to  a  young  person  of  distinc- 
tion's dress,  and  then  proceeded  to  the  beach,  where  fol- 
lowing her  physician's  advice,  Mrs.  Tudor  forced  herself 
to  sit,  for  a  couple  or  so  of  hours,  every  forenoon. 

JSTow  Esther  Fleming  was  still  of  an  age  when  to  sit 
and  dream  silently  at  the  waves  is  in  itself  a  vague  volup- 
tuous delight.  To  watch  the  pale  sky  fading  in  the  far 
horizon,  to  watch  the  fisherman's  sails  starting  forth,  like 
the  trembling  venture  of  young  hope,  across  the  bay,  filled 
her  with  yearning  thoughts,  if  not  of  Oliver,  of  something 
infinitely  dearer  in  reality  —  the  love  she  had  herself 
built  up  for  him !  And,  full  of  such  visions,  she  would 
contentedly  have  sat  out  the  two  hours  of  stipulated  sea- 
air  without  speaking  a  word ;  but  Mrs.  Tudor,  in  com- 
mon, I  fancy,  with  most  other  old  persons,  had  no  liking 
whatever  for  being  out-of-doors  and  alone.  What  dreams 
had  she  ?  what  did  a  fading  horizon  or  departing  sail  say 
to  her  ?  Her  ventures  had  been  put  forth  half  a  century 
before.  She  had  welcomed  back  to  shore  ships  well-laden 
with  substantial  merchandize  in  lieu  of  that  frail,  worth- 
less ballast,  with  which  they  first  set  sail.  Whatever  in- 
terest this  Weymouth  parade  could  yield  her  was  on  the 
side  where  people  rode  up  and  down,  not  on  that  where 
the  morning  sun  glared  on  her  face,  and  the  fresh  sea- 
wind  despoiled  her  best  artificial  curls,  and  all  the  afflu- 
ence of  light,  and  air,  and  life  told  her,  with  the  coarse 
ill-breeding  of  nature,  how  old,  and  weak,  and  sunless 
she,  Thalia  Tudor,  was !  She  could  care  for  Colonel 
Dash's  new  barouche  and  Mrs.  Blank's  shabby  livery;  but 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  145 

the  sun,  and  wind,  and  dust,  and  heat,  and  ,cold  by  turns 
wearied  and  irritated  her  to  death.  At  the  end  of  an 
hour's  complaining  Esther  found  she  could  much  more 
enter  into  Wilson's  frame  of  mind  respecting  her  aunt's 
requirements  than  she  could  have  done  the  night  before ; 
and  she  was  sensible  of  very  considerable  relief  when 
Mrs.  Tudor  descried  one  of  her  Bath  friends,  the  Miss 
Whitty  already  spoken  of]  approaching  them  along  the 
promenade. 

"My  dearest  Mrs.  Tudor  !  such  a  delightfully-unexpect- 
ed pleasure !  "  cried  this  lady  in  a  tone  of  the  most  youth- 
ful excitement.  "  To  think,  when  we  last  parted,  that  we 
should  meet  so  soon  again,  and  at  the  seaside  :  really  now, 
it  is  most  extraordinary  !  Miss  Fleming,  I'm  sure,  from 
the  family  likeness.  How-doryou-do,  Miss  Fleming  ?  I 
hope  you  left  your  friends  in  Devonshire  quite  well?" 
[Miss  Whitty  always  held  it  a  point  of  politeness  to  in- 
quire after  everybody's  relations,- whether  she  knew  them 
or  not.  "  It  may  please  —  It  can't  displease,"  was  her 
way  01  reasoning  to  herself.  "  If  I  never  see  them,  it 
does  not  signify  ;  if  I  do,  it  is  something- like  an  introduc- 
tion to  have  been  constantly  asking  about  them  to  their 
friends."  And  to  make  acquaintance  with  fresh  people 
was  the  grand  goal  and  winning  point  of  Miss  Whitty's 
life.]  "  I  am  so  delighted  we  have  met,"  she  proceeded, 
when  Esther  had  satisfied  her  as  to  the  sanitary  condition 
of  the  Countisbury  household.  "  We  can  take  such  nice 
long  walks  together  by  the  sea.  Do  you  care  for  sea- 
anemones?  I  am  a  perfect  child  when  I  once  find  my- 
self among  the  —  the  limpets  and  sea-weeds,  and  things, 
upon  the  rocks." 

"  I  should  think  you  had  best  stop  with  me  on  dry  land, 

Whitty,"   remarked   Mrs.  Tudor,   with  a  cutting  laugh. 

"We  old  women  are  not  fitted  for  scrambling  among 

rocks,  and  wetting  our  feet,  like  girls  of  Esther's  age. 

7 


146  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Where  are  you  lodging  ?  My  woman  tells  me  there  is 
not  a  garret  to  be  hired  in  Weymouth  under  thirty  shil- 
lings a  week." 

"  I  have  taken  apartments  in  one  of  the  smaller  streets, 
Mrs.  Tudor,"  answered  poor  Whitty,  evidently  with  a 
great  many  high  notes  taken  out  of  her  by  her  patroness's 
first  word.  "  The  people  are  not  very  civil ;  and  I  am 
afraid  they  take  the  butter  already ;  but  I  get  the  rooms 
on  moderate  terms,  and  perhaps,  as  I  shall  be  out  a  great 
deal,  the  cooking  and  attendance  won't  matter." 

"  You  can  get  your  food  with  me  when  you  will,"  said 
Mis.  Tudor.  "  I  dine  early  here  at  the  sea,  and  drink  my 
tea  at  six.  You  are  free  to  take  both  meals  with  me  when 
you  choose." 

Remembering  Mrs.  Tudor's  somewhat  scant  hospitality 
to  herself  the  night  before,  Esther  was  a  little  surprised 
at  this  open-handed  offer  to  any  one  so  hungry-looking  as 
Miss  Whitty.  She  did  not  yet  understand  the  system 
upon  which  Mrs.  Tudor's  reputation  for  liberality  was 
based  and  kept  up ;  but  poor  Whitty  did.  Years  of  pov- 
erty and  humility,  and  petty  toad-eating,  and  little  de- 
ceitful gratitude,  had  taught  her  the  precise  value  of  all 
proffered  favors  from  richer  people  —  the  exact  sort  of  an- 
swer it  was  incumbent  upon  herself  to  give.  "  She  would 
not  for  worlds  intrude  upon  Mrs.  Tudor.  Nothing  was 
more  disagreeable,  away  from  home,  than  having  people 
dropping  in  at  dinner-time.  She  would  be  delighted  to 
come  round  any  evening,  or  every  evening,  after  tea,  if 
Mrs.  Tudor  would  permit  her,  and " 

"  Very  well,  very  well,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Tudor  com-| 
placently  ("'tis  the  creature's  pride,"  she  remarked  after- 
wards to  Esther.  "  Whenever  I  try  to  put  bread  in  her 
mouth  she  makes  excuses,  as  you  saw  ;  and  she's  starving, 
my  dear,  she's  starving !  ")  "  You  shall  come  to-night, 
Whitty.  My  niece  and  I  will  drink  our  tea  early,  and  if 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  147 

you  come  in  by  seven  we  shall  just  have  time  for  a  game  of 
piquet  before  bed-time.  I  am  ordered  to  be  in  my  bed  by 
ten,  and  it  tells  upon  me  a  great  deal.  I  never  shut  my 
eyes  before  one.  It  tires  me  a  vast  deal  more  than  being 
up." 

"Perhaps  the  noise  of  the  waves  keeps  you  awake, 
mini,"  suggested  Miss  Whitty,  with  one  of  her  faint  lit- 
tle simpers.  "  I  had  an  aunt  once  who  was  ordered  to  the 
sea,  and " 

"Do  you  know  who  that  is  driving  with  old  Lady 
Fanshawe  ?  I  know  the  woman's  face.  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  Lady  Fanshawe  —  where,  mim  ?  Oh,  yes  !  to  be  sure  ; 
in  the  yellow  barouche."  Poor  Whitty  was  always  ready 
to  merge  her  own  stories  or  observations  on  the  faintest 
interruption  from  any  one  else.  "  Now  I  see  her  face. 
It's  Miss  Garth,  half-sister,  you  remember,  to  the  late  Lord 
Riversdale.  There  was  a  great  talk  about  her  once  for 
Colonel  Manners,  mim :  but  he  went  to  India  suddenly, 
and  she  got  a  situation  as  companion,  you  may  recollect ; 
and  she's  had  money  left  her  since,  and  lives  in  very  good 
style  at  Cheltenham  —  quite  in  the  dinnering  set." 

"  I  know  her ;  but  do  talk  grammar,  Miss  Whitty ; 
4  dinnering '  means  nothing.  I  knew  Amelia  Garth ;  I 
knew  Amelia  Garth's  mother.  She  comes  of  bad  blood. 
Old  Lady  Fanshawe  would  do  better  to  mind  her  own 
needy  flesh  and  blood  than  take  up  with  such  a  woman 
as  yon.  Who  is  this  coming  along  the  walk?  He  has  a 
distinguished  air.  Ah !  now  I  recognize  him.  Esther, 
child,"  in  a  whisper,  "  this  is  your  friend's  lover,  whom  you 
were  making  so  many  inquiries  about.  Mr.  Chichester, 
how  do  you  do  ?  " 

And  Esther,  who  had  been  listening  with  rather  vacant 
attention  to  the  conversation  about  Amelia  Garth,  started 
round,  and  positively  trembled  through  all  her  frame  on 
suddenly  finding  herself  face  to  face  with  Paul  Chiches- 
ter. 


148  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Mr.  Chichester,  my  niece,  Miss  Fleming." 

Esther  bowed,  very  distantly  and  cold :  Paul  smiled. 
"  I  am  quite  accustomed  to  hear  your  name,  Miss  Fleming. 
I  was  entrusted  with  a  great  many  messages  for  you,  in 
case  I  should  meet  you  here." 

"  Oh  !  I  am  much  obliged  ; "  and  then  Esther  stopped, 
and  felt  more  confused  than  she  had  ever  done  in  her  life 
before. 

"  You  were  at  school  with  Miss  Dash  wood,  Esther, 
were  you  not  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Tudor  with  a  sharp  look  at  her 
niece's  downcast  face.  "  Mr.  Chichester  has  recently 
come  from  Bath,  and  can,  no  doubt,  give  you  news  of 
your  young  friends." 

"  Milly  wrote  me  a  day  or  two  before  I  left  Countisbury, 
and  told  me  all  they  were  doing,  Aunt  Thalia.  She  and 
Jane  seem  to  have  been  very  gay  of  late." 

"  Not  so  gay  as  usual,  I  imagine,"  said  Paul.  "  I  be- 
lieve Bath  is  considered  to  be  empty  just  at  present." 

"  I  heard  of  two  balls  and  an  archery- f^te  in  one  week ; 
that  sounds  gay  to  me." 

"But  it  would  not  to  them.  Miss  Dashwood  informed 
me  in  the  race-week  that  she  had  danced  four-and-twenty 
hours  in  four  days,  in  addition  to  all  her  morning  fatigue 
on  the  course.  That  is  pretty  well,  I  think,  even  for  one 
of  the  fastest  young  ladies  in  England." 

"  Do  you  mean  Jane  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  Don't  you  know  that  to  be  considered  fast 
is  Miss  Dash  wood's  own  highest  and  most  cherished  am- 
bition." 

"  I  thought  you  pretended  to  be  engaged  to  her,"  almost 
rose  indignantly  to  Esther's  lips ;  but  as  she  was  going  to 
speak  she  happened  to  look  straight  into  Paul  Chichester's 
*  eyes,  and  something  she  read  there  made  her  stop  short. 
She  forgot  her  shyness,  she  forgot  her  indignation,  she 
forgot  Oliver  Carew.  "I  think  Jane  makes  herself  out 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         149 

worse  than  she  is,  sir.  I  could  never  believe  that  she 
was  fast  at  heart." 

"  Have  you  seen  many  of  your  friends  here,  Mr.  Chi- 
chester?"  interrupted  Mrs.  Tudor,  who  was  inwardly 
chafing  over  her  niece's  deplorable  want  of  aplomb  and 
self-possession.  "  I  have  been  here  a  fortnight,  and  have 
scarce  seen  a  dozen  faces  that  I  know.  Weymouth  is 
not  what  it  was  a  few  years  ago.  These  railways  fill 
every  place  with  the  same  sort  of  company.  I  think  I 
shall  begin  to  spend  my  summers  in  Bath  for  the  sake  of 
change.  Everything  is  bad  here;  the  medical  men  worst 
of  all." 

And  then  Mr.  Chichester  has  to  listen  for  about  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  to  Mrs.  Tudor's  statements  of  all  she  had 
gone  through  at  the  seaside ;  varied  only  by  occasional 
little  echoes  and  notes  of  admiration  on  the  part  of  Miss 
Whitty,  whose  eyes  and  hands  and  tongue  always  follow- 
ed the  sentiments  of  all  wealthy  persons  with  the  regu- 
larity of  clock-work. 

"Can  he  really  care  for  those  long  stpries  ?"  thought 
Esther  to  herself;  "  or  is  he  waiting  so  patiently  only  to 
give  me  the  Dash  woods'  messages  ?  How  I  wish  Milly 
had  never  written  me  such  nonsense  !  If  the  man  were 
a  coxcomb  he  might  think  "anything  of  me  from  the  ab- 
surd way  I  colored  at  meeting  him ! "  And  then  she 
gave  another  stealthy  look  at  Paul's  face  —  I  suppose  to 
see  if  any  of  a  coxcomb's  attributes  were  to  be  found  in 
its  expression. 

It  was  a  strikingly  handsome  face  :  the  forehead  broad, 
the  black,  clear-marked  eyebrows  straight  and  delicate. 
Esther  had  sometimes  laughed  at  hearing  David  descant 
from  his  old  poets  upon  the  beauty  of  greenish-grey  eyes, 
but  in  Paul's  face  she  was  first  sensible  of  the  singular 
charm  such  eyes  possess  when  accompanied  by  an  olive- 
pale  complexion  and  hair  and  lashes  of  jet.  There  hung 


150  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

in  her  own  bedroom  at  Countisbury  a  little  old  engraving 
from  one  of  Vandyck's  pictures :  it  bore  no  name  :  it 
was  simply  the  portrait  of  a  cavalier  in  velvet  coat  and 
point-lace  collar  and  ruffle  :.but  from  the  time  when  she 
was  six  years  old,  and  when  she  had  to  stand  upon  a 
chair  to  view  her  idol  closely,  Esther  had  bestowed  a 
whole  religion  of  secret  veneration  and  love  upon  this 
engraving.  When  she  first  began  to  like  Oliver  a  feeling 
of  infidelity  used  to  overcome  her  as  she  looked  at  her 
Yandyck  —  Mr.  Carew's  short  British  features  being,  as 
you  may  imagine,  supremely  unlike  the  pathetic,  noble 
.  type  of  that  unknown  face ;  however  pleasant  in  them- 
selves when  lit  up  with  youth  and  health  and  the  admi- 
ration that  they  expressed  for  her.  But,  as  she  looked  at 
Paul,  every  detail  of  the  picture  rose,  line  by  line,  before 
her :  the  dark  and  delicate  sweep  of  brow  ;  the  steady, 
deep-set  eyes  of  hazel-grey ;  the  clear-cut  lips ;  the  reso- 
lute chin  —  all,  even  to  the  jet-black  hair,  and  olive-brown 
complexion  with  which  her  imagination  had  been  wont 
to  give  the  picture  life,  rose  before  her,  just  as  on  many  a 
score  of  summer  evenings  she  had  seen  them,  half  in 
fancy,  half  within  the  little  old  oak  frame,  upon  the  wall  at 
Countisbury.  Now  she  knew  what  had  made  her  sud- 
denly stop  short,  had  made  her  suddenly  feel  that  she 
and  Paul  were  speaking  together  as  old  friends,  not  as 
strangers  whose  acquaintance  might  be  reckoned  up  by 
minutes.  She  had  met  —  alas !  for  the  first  time  —  her 
childish  ideal  clothed  with  life;  had  found,  in  Jane  Dash- 
wood's  lover,  the  type  with  which  she  had  so  vainly 
striven  to  identify  her  own. 

"  You  have  seen  Mrs.  Strangways  ?  "  broke  in  Mrs. 
Tudor's  voice.  "  She  is  a  great  deal  aged,  Mr.  Chiches- 
ter,  is  she  not  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  any  difference  in  her,"  answered  Paul, 
promptly.  "  To  me  Mrs.  Strangways  is  always  a  very 
pretty  woman  indeed." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  15J 

"  Oh,  of  course  !  You  young  men  are  all  wild  about 
Mrs.  Strangways.  A  boy  is  riding  with  her  to-day  who 
might  be  her  son  ?  Who  is  he,  Whitty  ?  They  are  com- 
ing here,  to  the  right,  on  horseback.  Who  is  that  silly 
lad  Mrs.  Strangways  has  got  hold  of  now  ?  " 

"  A  son  of  Colonel  Ashton's  mim,"  returned  Whitty 
with  her  preternatural,  instantaneous  capacity  for  answer- 
ing everything  and  knowing  everybody's  history.  "  He 
left  Eton  at  Christmas,  and  has  got  a  commission  in  the 
Carbineers,  but  won't  join  the  regiment  till  February." 

"And  which  is  Mrs.  Strangways?"  Esther  asked,  with 
an  undefined  sensation  of  curiosity  to  see  the  woman  Mr. 
Chichester  admired. 

"  The  lady  on  horseback  on  our  left,"  answered  Miss 
Whitty.  "Turn  your  head  a  little  round  from  the  sea, 
Miss  Fleming ;  she  will  pass  before  us  in  a  moment." 

"  Mrs.  Strangways  is  an  acquaintance  of  yours,  then, 
Mr.  Chichester?"  remarked  Mrs.  Tudor,  when  the  lady 
had  gone  past  and  bestowed  a  radiantly-sweet  smile  on 
Paul.  "An  old  acquaintance,  probably?" 

"Oh,  yes!  a  very  old  acquaintance,"  Paul  answered, 
carelessly.  "  Every  one  who  knows  London  well  must 
know  Mrs.  Strangways." 

"  She's  a  very  nice-looking  person,  sir,  isn't  she  ?  "  cried 
poor  Miss  Whitty,  who,  on  the  strength  of  Paul's  last 
somewhat  equivocal  compliment,  thought  she  might  as 
well  hazard  something  generally  pleasing.  "I  believe  she 
and  Miss  Dashwood  were  considered  quite  the  two  first 
beauties  in  Bath  last  winter." 

"  Indeed  ! "  responded  Paul,  coolly  :  much  too  coolly  to 
meet  Esther's  ideas  respecting  what  was  required  of  him 
as  Jane's  lover.  "I  should  not  myself,  place  Miss  Dash- 
wood  and  Mrs.  Strangways  in  the  same  rank  as  regards 
beauty." 

"  I  should  think  not !  "  replied  Esther.     «  Jane  Dash- 


152  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

wood  is  fair  and  fresh  and  young  ;  and  that  —  that  per- 
son who  has  ridden  past  us  is  older  by  years,  and  looks 
quite  bold  and  worn  and  faded.  Yes,  Aunt  Thalia,  she 
does :  and  I  don't  like  to  hear  Jane  Dashwood  named 
with  her." 

"Appearances  are  so  very  misleading,  Miss  Fleming," 
suggested  Whitty,  apologetically.  I  have  heard  many 
people  say  how  much  they  like  Mrs.  Strangways  when 
they  get  to  know  her  well." 

"  And  it  is  never  suitable  for  young  persons,  who  know 
nothing  on  such  matters,  to  pronounce  judgment  on  their 
elders,"  said  Mrs.  Tudor,  rising  from  her  seat  with  diffi- 
culty. "  Mr.  Chichester,  my  lodging  is  at  the  red-brick 
house  exactly  opposite.  I  should  be  glad  to  see  you  at 
any  time  if  you  are  going  to  stay  in  Weymouth." 

Mr.  Chichester  answered  that  he  was  going  back  to 
London  next  morning  early ;  but  —  and  he  looked  at 
Esther  —  he  had  not  yet  delivered  any  of  his  messages 
to  Miss  Fleming. 

"  Then  come  and  do  so  this  evening,"  said  Mrs.  Tudor. 

"We  old  ladies,"  with  a  glance  at  Whitty,  "shall  be- 
gin our  game  of  cards  at  eight,  and  if  you  choose  to  en- 
counter the  stupidity  of  such  an  entertainment  I  shall  be 
glad  to  see  you.  Esther,  my  love,  you  are  anxious  to  re- 
ceive the  Miss  Dash  woods'  messages  ?  " 

"I  —  I  —  shall  be  very  happy  to  see  Mr.  Chichester  if 
he  will  come,  Aunt  Thalia." 

And  then  she  looked  straight  in  his  face,  with  her  hon- 
est smile :  and  Paul,  for  the  first  time,  thought  her  hand- 
some. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    STUDY    OF   ASTRONOMY. 

No,  child,  you  must  never  express  any  of  those  strong 
opinions  again.  Men  don't  admire  decision  in  young  girls 
of  your  age."  • 

"  But  Mrs.  Strangways  is  bold-looking,  Aunt  Thalia, 
and  I  did  not  like  to  hear  Jane  Dash  wood  named  with 
her." 

"  Mrs.  Strangways  not  only  looks,  but  is,  bold,  child. 
That  is  just  the  reason  you  should  not  have  said  what 
you  did.  The  truer  such  remarks  are,  the  more  reason 
for  young  persons  abstaining  from  making  them.  Mr. 
Chichester  may  be  au  mieux  with  Mrs.  Strangways,  for 
anything  you  know  to  the  contrary  ;  but,  at  all  events,  the 
fact  of  his  having  called  her  pretty,  and  of  her  bowing  to 
him  in  such  a  friendly  manner,  were  reasons  enough  to 
seal  your  lips.  It  has  a  very  bad  effect  for  one  woman  to 
dispraise  another  before  the  man  who  admires  her." 

"But  Mr.  Chichester  is  engaged  to  Jane  Dashwood. 
What  can  Mrs.  Strangways'  beauty,  or  my  opinion  of  her, 
matter  to  him  ?  " 

"Ta,  ta  !  child,  don't  be  so  simple  and  sentimental. 
What  does  a  man  of  thirty  —  a  man  of  the  world  like 
Chichester  —  think  of  Miss  Dashwood  when  he  is  fifty 
miles  away  from  her  ?  As  to  the  engagement,  I  don't  be- 
lieve in  it.  He  has  not  the  air  of  an  engaged  man  at  all. 
Barring  his  want  of  means,  it  would  be  a  very  good  match 
for  one  of  Colonel  Dash  wood's  daughters,  if  they  could 
catch  him.  He  is  of  better  birth  and  breeding  in  every 
way  than  themselves."  And  Mrs.  Tudor  scrutinized  her 
niece's  appearance  carefully,  arid  made  up  her  mind,  if 


154  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Paul  had  only  more  money,  that  it  would  not  be  a  bad 
thing  for  Esther  to  supplant  Jane  Dashwood  if  she  could. 

Esther  had  never  looked  better  than  on  this  evening,  as 
she  stood  beside  the  window  waiting  for  their  guest  to 
arrive.  She  had,  with  considerable  inward  upbraiding 
put  on  her  white  muslin  dress,  and  braided  her  hair  back 
from  her  face  in  that  way  poor  Oliver  liked.  She  was  al- 
together looking  unusually  flushed,  and  well,  and  hand- 
some ;  and  reading  this  opinion  of  herself  upon  Mrs.  Tu- 
dor's  face,  her  uneasy  conscience  began  supplying  fine 
casuistic  reasons  to  itself  for  having  dressed  so  much  and 
for  having  gained  such  a  color.  "  I  had  nothing  clean 
but  my  gingham,  which  looks  so  heavy  by  candlelight, 
and  this  white  muslin.  It  is  only  the  frock  I  danced  in  at 
school,  Aunt  Thalia ;  I  hope  Miss  Whitty  won't  think  I 
am  too  much  dressed  out.  Indeed,  I  have  made  myself 
quite  hot  and  miserable  thinking  whether  I  don't  look  too 
grand,  as  it  is." 

"White  muslin  without  an  ornament  is  always  in  good 
taste,"  said  Mrs.  Tudor,  mildly.  "  You  dress  your  hair 
very  well,  Esther.  Your  face  will  bear  that  severe  style 
till  yon  are  twenty-one,  and  white  becomes  you." 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Thalia !  I  think  it  makes  me  look  very 
dark.  Do  see  how  brown  my  hands  are  ! " 

She  held  out  one  of  her  arms,  which  the  loose-falling 
sleeve  displayed  nearly  to  the  shoulder,  for  Mrs.  Tudor 
to  analyze.  It  was  a  beautiful  arm ;  slight,  as  yet,  for 
the  girl  had  not  herself  reached  to  the  fullness  of  wo- 
manhood ;  but  with  delicate  curved  lines,  full  of  promise 
for  the  future,  and  with  a  hand,  tanned,  certainly,  by  the 
sun  and  wind,  but  lithe  and  delicately  moulded  as  a 
painter's  heart  could  desire.  "  I  had  a  great  mind  to 
put  on  gloves,  Aunt  Thalia,  only  they  would  have  made 
me  look  more  dressed  still." 

"  And  as  Mr.  Chichester  is  only  your  friend's  lover 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         155 

your  brown  hands  don't  signify,"  said  Mrs.  Tudor,  drily. 
"  He  will  just  deliver  the  Miss  Dash  woods'  messages  and 
go  away  in  half  an  hour,  I  have  no  doubt." 

A  suggestion  which  made  Esther  retire  to  the  window 
and  gaze  out  in  silence  at  the  sea  until  a  feeble  apologetic 
knock  at  the  front  door  heralded  Miss  Whitty's  arrival. 

"Just  run  out  and  take  her  into  my  bed-room,  Esther," 
said  Mrs.  Tudor,  quickly.  "  Wilson  is  much  too  fine  a 
lady  to  wait  upon  Miss  Whitty,  and  I  don't  like  her  going 
alone  to  my  dressing-table.  I  wouldn't  for  worlds  think 
anything  really  bad  of  the  poor  creature,  but  I  have 
doubts  about  the  pins.  Pretend  you  wish  to  show  her 
the  way,  and  don't  leave  her  alone  for  a  minute.  Do 
you  hear  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Thalia,  I  hear."  And  very  hot  and  ashamed 
of  her  office,  Esther  went  out  to  watch  over  the  rectitude 
of  poor  Miss  Whitty,  whom  she  found  disrobing  herself, 
in  quite  a  cheerful  and  good-tempered  state  of  mind, 
upon  the  top  of  the  stairs. 

"  It's  a  little  weakness  of  your  aunt's,  dear  Miss  Flem- 
ing," she  whispered,  "  a  little  weakness'  of  dearest  Mrs. 
Tudor's,  not  liking  any  one  to  be  alone  in  her  dressing- 
room,  and  so  I  am  taking  my  things  off  here.  Perhaps 
we  shall  all  feel  the  same  some  day.  Elderly  people  re- 
quire artifices,  you  know,  don't  they  ?  " 

From  which  observation  Esther  gathered  that  it  was 
latent,  even  in  Miss  Whitty's  shallow  little  soul,  to  be 
occasionally  spiteful  if  she  dared.  "  Mrs.  Tudor  sent  me 
out  to  show  you  which  was  her  room,  Miss  Whitty. 
Surely  you  would  like  to  arrange  your  —  your  —  "  her 
hesitation  was  caused  by  the  very  doubtful  nature  of  the 
Whitty  coiffure  —  "your  curls  at  the  glass." 

"  Well,  I  will  just  take  a  peep,  then,"  said  Miss  Whitty 
girlishly,  "if  you're  sure  it's  no  trouble.  Pray  don't 
think  of  getting  a  candle.  One  look  is  all  I  want." 


156  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

But  the  look,  even  in  the  fading  twilight,  seemed  to 
disclose  many  and  unexpected  deficiencies  to  Miss 
Whitty's  mind.  "  Perhaps  it  would  be,  as  well  regularly 
to  settle  oneself,  after  all,"  she  remarked,  putting  her 
head  on  one  side  and  looking  plaintively  at  Esther.  "  I 
did  up  a  little  parcel  ready,  you  see,  but  not  knowing 
where  I  was  to  undress,  I  didn't  untie  it  at  first.  You 
wouldn't  mind  waiting  a  few  moments  here  for  me,  would 
you?" 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,"  said  Esther,  who  was  every  moment 
nervously  expecting  to  hear  Paul's  knock  at  the  door. 
"  There  will  be  no  one  but  ourselves  and  Mr.  Chichester, 
though,  and —  and  — I  am  sure  you  look  very  nice  already, 
Miss  Whitty." 

"  But  I  am  showing  my  frizzes !  Yes,  indeed  I  am. 
Why,  I  can  feel  them  quite  bare  on  each  side  of  my  head. 
Nothing  looks  so  bad,  so  indelicate  indeed,  as  to  show 
one's  frizzes  before  gentlemen."  And  then  Miss  Whitty 
unfolded  her  brown-paper  parcel,  and  drew  forth  her 
shoes,  and  her  brushes  and  comb,  and  her  knitting,  and  a 
bow  for  her  neck,  and  her  bracelets,  and  various  other 
small  articles  of  promiscuous  adornment.  "How  do  I 
look,  dear  Miss  Fleming?"  she  inquired,  after  at  least 
ten  minutes'  preparation.  u  Would  you  kindly  look  and 
tell  me  if  my  hair  is  right  behind  ?  Really  there  is  noth- 
ing makes  me  so  fearfully  nervous  as  the  thought  of  show- 
ing my  frizzes." 

Now,  but  for  Miss  Whitty  herself  vouchsafing  the  infor- 
mation, no  human  eye  would  have  detected  the  existence 
of  "  frizzes"  at  all,  the  whole  head  having  an  extraordi- 
narily flat,  denuded  aspect,  save  where  irregular  forests 
of  little  black  satin  bows,  with  strange  pendant  ladders 
of  chenille  rings,  and  other  odds  and  ends  of  millinery, 
covered  it  away  from  sight  at  the  back.  Having  heard 
as  a  girl  that  she  had  a  good  profile,  Miss  Whitty,  at  forty- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.     .     157 

nine,  continued  to  show  a  great  deal  of  cheek-bone  and 
neck ;  the  latter  wound  round  with  different  devices  of 
velvets  and  hair-chains,  as  foils  to  the  complexion.  She 
was  dressed  in  a  barege  gown  of  large  pattern,  but  faded 
colors,  suggestive  of  having  been  bought  in  a  remnant  at 
the  end  of  a  very  remote  Bath  season  ;  which  dress,  being 
of  home  make,  hung  rather  irregularly  about  the  skirts, 
and  displayed,  whenever  its  wearer  chanced  to  move  in- 
advertently, strange  glimpses  of  precarious  slate-colored 
hooping  about  the  ankles.  Shoes,  known  in  the  trade  and 
to  Miss  Whitty  as  "  prunella,"  with  sandals  that  habitual- 
ly came  untied ;  rusty-black  mittens,  rather  gritty  to  the 
touch  ;  frequent  garnet  rings,  and  a  brooch  containing  the 
photographic  portrait  of  a  general  officer  in  field  uniform, 
were  the  finishing  points  of  Whitty's  toilette,  together 
with  such  minor  accessories  as  a  bag  worked  in  beads  for 
her  knitting ;  a  China  crape  scarf,  in  case  of  sudden  mod- 
esty, upon  her  arm ;  and  a  very  raggy-looking  laced 
pocket-handkerchief,  smelling  hard  of  bad  lavender-water, 
in  her  hand. 

"  I  thought  you  had  gone  home  again,"  said  Mrs.  Tu- 
dor, pleasantly,  when  they  entered  the  room.  "  What  in 
the  name  of  everything  ridiculous,  have  you  been  doing 
to  yourself  all  this  time,  Miss  Whitty  ?  " 

"  Only  just  changing  my  shoes  and  doing  my  hair,  Mim," 
answered  Whitty,  feeling  herself  turn  hot  and  cold  as 
Mrs.  Tudor's  great  black  eyes  travelled  with  malignant 
composure  over  every  poor  item  of  her  dress.  "  Miss 
Fleming  was  so  kind  as  to  ask  me  into  your  room,  Mim, 
and  I  thought,  as  a  gentleman  was  coming,  it  would  be  as 
well  to  settle  myself." 

"Ah!  I  see.  As  Mr.  Chichester  is  an  engaged  man, 
however,  you  young  ladies  need  not  be  so  very  particular 
in  dressing  for  him,  need  you,  Esther  ?  Draw  my  chair 
to  the  table,  my  love,  and  get  the  cards  out :  we  will  be- 


158  THE,  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

gin  our  game  at  once.  I  am  ordered  to  be  in  my  bed  at 
ten,  Miss  Whitty,  and  we  have  lost  half  an  hour  of  our 
time  already." 

When  Mrs.  Tudor  was  once  well  launched  into  cards, 
even  though  she  played  for  nothing,  she  required  no  fur- 
ther attention  from  any  of  her  company ;  and  finding  this, 
Esther  stole  out  through  the  partially-closed  Venetians 
and  gave  herself  up,  deliberately,  to  the  pleasure  of  gaz- 
ing at  the  sea  and  dreaming  upon  the  balcony. 

It  was  a  sultry  autumn  night,  not  moonlit,  though  a 
white  new  moon  was  showing  faint  above  the  line  of  downs 
beyond  the  bay,  but  light  with  countless  stars,  and  with 
the  dusky  red  of  sunset  yet  haunting  the  pale  sky.  Esther 
Fleming  was  still  at  an  age  when  merely  to  breathe  the  air 
of  a  hot  summer  night  can  stir  the  blood  with  a  thousand 
vague  sensations  of  delicious  unrest.  She  forgot  Mrs. 
Tuclor  and  the  sounds  of  capote  and  re-pique  which  oc- 
casionally reached  her  from  within ;  she  forgot  that  she 
ought  to  be  miserable  away  from  Oliver  and  looking  at 
the  moon;  she  forgot  —  did  she  quite  forget  Paul  Chi- 
chester?  and  was  she  thinking  only  of  the  old  Vandyck 
upon  the  wall  at  Countisbury,  when  Paul's  own  voice, 
close  at  her  side,  startled  her  suddenly  from  her  dreams? 

"  I  am  disturbing  you,  Miss  Fleming,  but  I  had  Mrs. 
Tudor's  permission  to  do  so.  I  hope  you  were  not  think- 
ing of  anything  very  important." 

"  Important !  oh,  not  at  all.  I  —  I  expected  you  !  " 
And  in  her  desire  to  be  quite  unembarrassed,  Esther  gave 
her  hand  to  him.  "My  thoughts  are  never  of  any  impor- 
tance, Mr.  Chichester,"  she  added  quickly.  "  I  was  only 
enjoying  this  delicious  warm  air  from  the  sea  for  a  few 
minutes." 

"  Then  I  am  sorry  I  interrupted  you.  Nothing  can  be 
of  greater  importance  to  oneself  than  to  be  conscious  of 
enjoyment." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         159 

"I  don't  agree  with  that  creed  at  all,"  cried  Esther. 
"I  think  enjoyment  is  just  the  least  important  thing  we 
have  any  of  us  to  do  with." 

"  You  believe  you  think  so,"  remarked  Paul,  laconi- 
cally. 

"  I  know  that  I  feel  so,  Mr.  Chichester."  And  then, 
finding  that  the  fading  light,  or  some  other  circumstance, 
had  hindered  Mr.  Chichester,  up  to  this  point,  from  perceiv- 
ing that  her  hand  was  still  in  his,  she  withdrew  it  rather  ab- 
ruptly. "  I  have  a  horror  of  even  looking  at  one's  life  as  a 
thing  only  to  be  enjoyed.  I  like  to  feel  how  good  a  thing 
it  is  '  to  suffer  and  be  strong.' " 

"  Oh  !  what  does  that  mean  ?     It  sounds  like  verse." 

"Sounds  like  verse  !  Don't  you  know  that  it  is  from, 
one  of  Longfellow's  most  lovely  little  pieces  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  appreciate  lovely  little  pieces.     I  cer- 
tainly never  read  verses." 
4  You  never  read  poetry  ?  " 

"Not  much;  I  am  too  old.  When  I  was  your  age  I 
used  to  read  a  good  deal  of  it." 

"  In  those  days,  perhaps,  you  would  have  been  able  to 
see  the  beauty  in  those  lines  of  Longfellow's." 

"  Will  you  repeat  them  again  ?  " 

"  '  Know  how  sublime  a  thing  it  is 
To  suffer  and  be  strong.'  " 

"  No,  I  should  never  see  any  beauty  in  them,  because  I 
should  never  think  the  sentiment  of  them  strictly  true. 
To  do  what  lies  before  one  is  desirable,  of  course,  but  it 
is  a  great  deal  better  if  the  duty  happens  to  be  pleasant.,) 
Suffering,  as  suffering,  is  no  more  sublime  than  self-denial* 
as  self-denial,  is  virtuous.  However,"  —  he  interrupted 
himself — "  it  sounds  pretty  in  rhyme,  and  repeated,  as 
you  repeated  it,  Miss  Fleming." 

"In  other  words,  I  am  not  capable  of  arguing,  but  can 
be  put  off  with  a  compliment,  Mr.  Chichester." 


160  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Mr.  Chichester  laughed.  "  You  said  that  so  like  Jane 
Dash  wood ! "  he  remarked.  "  I  can  easily  see  that  you 
have  both  been  to  the  same  school." 

"  Which,  unfortunately,  is  not  the  case,"  cried  Esther, 
promptly,  and  with  an  irrepressible  impulse  of  pique  that 
Paul  should  have  been  first  to  mention  Jane's  name.  "  It 
was  Milly  that  was  my  schoolfellow  ;  but  I  should  be 
very  glad  to  be  like  Jane  in  many  things,"  she  added,  after 
a  minute  or  two. 

"  Poor  Jane  !  she  really  has  some  excellent  points  ! " 
said  Paul,  deliberately.  "  Her  faults  show  more  on  the 
surface,  and  her  good  qualities,  such  as  they  are,  lie  deep- 
er than  Miss  Milly's.  If  Jane  fell  into  good  hands,  I  be- 
lieve she  might  turn  out  well,  even  yet." 

"  Mr.  Chichester  !  " 

"  Miss  Fleming  !  " 

"  You  are  talking  of  Jane  Dash  wood  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  And  she  is  engaged  to  you  ?  " 

Paul  laughed  again;  a  low,  rather  short  laugh  he  had. 
Esther  believed  at  first  she  did  not  like  it.  "  I  had  no 
idea  Miss  Dashwood  had  been  disclosing  all  her  secrets. 
Really  it  would  have  been  only  right  of  her  to  tell  me." 

"  And  so  have  prevented  you  from  giving  your  opinion 
too  freely  ?  " 

"  Oh,  not  at  all.  I  was  not  thinking  of  that.  Because 
two  persons  happen  to  be  engaged  is  no  reason  that  they 
should  not  see  and  speak  of  each  other's  faults." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Chichester!  love  sees  no  faults  at  all." 

"  Miss  Fleming,  you  are  awfully  sentimental.  This 
comes  of  reading  poetry  and  gazing  at  the  moon  from 
balconies.  Has  not  an  engaged  man,  or,  to  go  a  great 
deal  further,  has  not  a  man  in  love  a  brain  and  sight  and 
hearing  just  like  other  men  ." 

"  Yes,  but  love  sways  them  all !  " 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  1(31 

"  That  depends  chiefly  upon  the  man's  own  strength  of 
character.  Now,  imagine  yourself " 

"  Oh,  no,  thank  you,"  she  interrupted  him  quickly  ;  "  I 
don't  want  to  speak  about  myself  at  all." 

"  You  don't  know  what  I  was  going  to  say.  Imagine 
yourself  so  unfortunately  placed  as  to  be  engaged,  then 
separated  from  the  person  to  whom  you  are  engaged. 
When  you  were  together,  perhaps,  you  had  not  much  time 
for  analyzation  of  character,  but  you  have  plenty,  too 
much,  indeed,  apart.  You  see  some  one  else,  who  teach- 
es you  what  the  first  one  should  have  been,  and " 

"  I  should  never  change  where  I  had  once  given  my 
word,"  Esther  cried,  warmly.  "  Never  !  " 

"  That  is  another  question.  We  are  not  talking  of 
changing,  but  of  being  able,  although  in  love,  to  see  faults 
of  character  truly." 

"  I  would  blind  my  eyes  to  them  deliberately,  Mr.  Chi- 
chester.  I  would  not  acknowledge  them  even  to  my- 
self." 

"But  you  would  be  conscious  of  their  existence,  not- 
withstanding." 

"  I  would  never  talk  of  them  to  any  one  else,  at  all 
events.  I  would  never  speak  as  —  as " 

"As  I  did  of  Jane  Dash  wood  just  now.  No,  I  suppose 
no  one  would  do  so  who  looked  upon  an  engagement  as 
a  real  one.  You  know,  of  course,  that  Miss  Dash  wood  and 
myself  look  upon  ours  as  nothing  of  the  kind." 

"  Mr.  Chichester  !  " 

"It  is  part  of  our  compact  that  we  both  may  speak  of 
it  as  it  really  is  at  any  time  we  think  proper.  I  have  a 
fancy  for  doing  so  at  this  present  moment.  Miss  Dash- 
wood  finds  a  nominal  engagement  tb  myself  a  matter  of 
some  convenience  in  the  present  state  of  her  own  affairs." 

"And  you?"  exclaimed  Esther,  as  Paul  hesitated 
slightly. 


162  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  find  my  position  a  disagreeable  one,  ex- 
actly. It  allows  me  to  enter  into  a  great  many  feelings, 
experimentally,  which  otherwise  would  never  have  come 
within  the  range  of  my  own  observation,  and  that  has 
made  up,  in  some  measure,  for  having  to  go  through 
a  good  many  vastly  stupid  balls  and  parties  in  my  attend- 
ance upon  Miss  Dash  wood." 

"  And  when  it  is  over  —  when  you  have  acted  your 
parts  through  —  how  will  you  and  Jane  ever  be  able  to 
look  back  upon  it  all,  or  upon  each  other's  conduct?" 

"  I  shouldn't  suppose  Jane  would  ever  think  of  any- 
thing connected  with  me  again.  I  shall  always  think  of 
her  with  pleasure  and  gratitude.  She  is  lovable  in  many 
ways,  although  I  am  not  happy  enough  to  be  the  man 
who  has  gained  her  love." 

"Oh!" 

"  Your  tone  is  depreciating,  Miss  Fleming.  Is  there 
anything  I  have  said  that  shocks  your  sense  of  right  ?  " 

"  I  can't  enter  into  the  subject,  Mr.  Chichester.  I  don't 
understand  the  world.  I  have  very  old-fashioned  ideas." 

"  Let  me  hear  them,  please." 

"  It  would  be  quite  useless.  We  should  never  think 
alike.  I  hold  an  engagement  to  be  a  very  solemn  thing 
indeed,  and  I  think  it  nearly  as  bad  to  act  one  as  it  would 
be  to  play  at  religion." 

"  But  if  one  acquires  a  knowledge  of  an  entirely  new 
class  of  sensation,  from  which,  except  as  a  spectator,  one 
is,  perforce,  shut  out !  Is  that  no  gain  to  oneself,  do  you 
think  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  say.  I  atn  sure  you  ought  not  to  do  wrong 
merely  to  add  to  your  experiences." 

"Miss  Fleming,  do  you  ever  read  novels?" 

"  Yes,  when  my  cousin  Joan  lets  me." 

"  And  you  like  them  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  like  some  of  them  extremely." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  163 

"  Have  you  ever  been  to  the  theatre  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  to  the  Opera  twice  and  once  to  the  Prin- 
cess's. My  cousin  David  gave  me  the  money  for  the 
tickets  when  I  went  to  school." 

"  And  don't  you  see  that  novels  and  plays  yield  just 
the  same  kind  of  knowledge  that  can  be  gained,  at  first 
hand,  by  oneself  acting,  for  a  while,  as  the  hero  of  the 
piece  ?  " 

"Novels  and  plays  are  not  real,  Mr.  Chichester." 

"  Miss  Dash  wood's  engagement  to  myself  is  not  real, 
Miss  Fleming." 

"  Novels  and  plays  deceive  no  one." 

"Nor  do  I." 

"But  Jane  deceives  her  father." 

Paul  was  silent. 

"Jane  deceives  her  father  and  she  deceives  herself,  too, 
in  thinking  that  she  will  not  one  day  repent  of  all  this 
folly.  Although  I  have  only  seen  her  once,  I  know  that 
Jane  is  much  too  good  for  the  people  she  lives  among. 
I  am  sure  of  that." 

"Do  youjnclude  me  in  that  sweeping  anathema?" 

"  I  don't  know  enough  of  you  to  say,  Mr.  Chichester. 
I  was  thinking  of  such  companionship  as  that  lady  we 
saw  to-day  —  that  person  you  thought  so  handsome,  you 
remember." 

"  I  don't  know  whom  you  mean.  I  have  seen  no  hand- 
some person  to-day  who  could  be  considered  an  evil  com- 
panion for  Miss  Dash  wood." 

"  Oh,  that  is  a  matter  of  opinion," 

"  I  think  that  a  fresh,  honest,  although  somewhat  sen- 
timental nature,  is  just  one  that  it  would  do  Jane  im- 
mense good  to  come  in  contact  with." 

"  And  is  Mrs.  Strangways  frank,  and  honest,  and  rather 
sentimental,  then  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  speaking  of  Mrs.  Strangways,  Miss  Fleming." 


164  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

"  Oh ! " 

And  then  Esther  found  she  had  nothing  more  to  say, 
and  she  listened  with  great  attention  to  Mrs.  Tudor's 
scoring  quatorze  to  a  king,  and  began  playing  with  her 
fingers  upon  the  rail  of  the  balcony;  and,  finally,  suggest- 
ed, rather  faintly,  that  the  air  was  growing  cold,  and  she 
t  Bought  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  go  in. 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  Paul  in  his  decisive  way. 
"  What  should  you  go  in  for  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  getting  cold." 

"  I  will  bring  you  a  shawl,  then.  And  without  being 
heard  by  either  Mrs.  Tudor  or  Whitty,  he  made  his  way 
softly  into  the  room  and  brought  out  a  light  shawl  of 
Mrs.  Tudor's  from  the  sofa.  "  Will  you  let  me  put  it  on 
for  you  ?  Thank  you,  you  need  not  stoop.  I  am  tall 
enough  to  reach  you'r  shoulders  when  I  hold  myself  very 
upright." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Chichester,  how  can  you  talk  such  nonsense  ? 
You  are  taller  than  me  by  three  or  four  inches." 

"  No,  Miss  Fleming,  I  am  not.  I  am  as  inferior  to  you, 
physically,  as  I  am  mentally  and  morally." 

The  words,  although  Paul's  tone  was  jesting,  hurt  Es- 
ther with  quite  a  sharp  pain.  What  woman  is  not  pained 
by  an  allusion  to  her  intellect  from  the  man  she  is  pre- 
pared to  love  ?  "  You  mean  that  I  set  myself  very  high, 
Mr.  Chichester,"  she  cried;  "but  you  are  just  as  wrong 
in  that  as  you  are  about  my  size.  Stand  close  to  me, 
please,  and  you  will  see  what  a  mistake  you  have  made." 

He  stood  by  her  side,  but  not  close.  Something  in 
her  eager  childish  face  would  have  withheld  even  a  differ- 
ent man  than  Paul  from  misinterpreting  her  meaning. 

"Now  which  is  the  taller,  Miss  Fleming?"  he  asked, 
when  Esther  had  gravely  held  her  head  as  high  and  ma- 
jestically as  possible. 

"  You,  by  a  great  many  inches,"  she  answered,  glanc- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  165 

ing  up  at  the  graceful  outline  of  Paul's  figure,  as  it  cut, 
sharp  and  clear,  against  the  evening  sky.  "  I  am  sure, 
although  I  did  not  think  so  at  first,  that  you  are  nearly 
as  tall  as " 

«  As ? ' 

"  A  friend  of  ours,  Mr.  Chichester.  Some  one  I  was 
thinking  of " 

"  Your  cousin  David,  in  short." 

"  No,  not  exactly." 

"  I  understand.  The  person  you  were  thinking  of  when 
I  first  interrupted  you  just  now." 

"  Oh  dear  no.  I  was  thinking  then  of —  of  my  old 
home  in  Devonshire.  Don't  you  think  the  sky  is  looking 
clearer,  Mr.  Chichester  ?  " 

She  knew,  even  in  that  dim  light,  that  Paul's  eyes  were 
upon  her  face,  and  that  he  had  seen  her  blush.  "  Don't 
you  feel  a  colder  air  coming  up  from  the  sea  ?  " 

"  I  feel  sensible  of  a  great  chill,  Miss  Fleming.  It  has 
come  on  me  suddenly  —  in  the  last  few  seconds." 

"  And  we  had  better  go  in,  then  ?  " 

"As  you  will.  Yes;  probably  it  is  better,  for  me,  at 
all  events,  to  go." 

Elsewhere  I  have  disclaimed  for  Esther  every  quality 
belonging  to  a  coquette.  She  had,  however,  enough  in- 
stinctive vanity  to  catch  at  the  meaning  of  Paul's  tone. 
"I  think  you  must  be  very  sensitive,  Mr.  Chichester," 
looking  up  at  him  with  her  shy  half-smile.  "  You  must 
be  in  a  very  delicate  state  of  health  if  you  are  so  dread- 
fully afraid  of  getting  a  chill." 

"Afraid?  No,  that  is  not  the  word.  The  effect  can- 
not by  any  possibility  be  serious  to  me,  but  the  immediate 
effect  is  unpleasant.  You  understand  ?  " 

Esther  leant  forward  across  the  railing  of  the  balcony, 
and  made  some  remark  again  upon  the  beauty  of  the 
night.  Those  broad  circles  of  gleaming  light  on  the  cairn 


16(3  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

sea  betokened  fine  weather.  She  had  no  doubt  Mr.  Chi- 
chester  would  have  a  pleasant  day  for  his  journey  to- 
morrow. 

"  And  I  shall  carry  with  me  a  pleasant  remembrance," 
said  Paul,  coming  a  step  closer  to  her.  "  Yes,  in  spite  of 
that  sudden  chill  I  got  just  now,  Miss  Fleming,  I  shall  re- 
member this  hour  that  you  have  allowed  me  to  talk  to 
you  with  gratitude.  It  is  mine,  you  know!  Although,  I 
dare  say,  you  will  never  think  of  me  again,  you  have 
thought  of  me  now,  and  I  shall  remember  this  one  hour 
out  of  your  life  as  belonging  to  me  exclusively.  Are  you 
offended?" 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Chichester ! "  and  she  turned  to  him  with 
that  serious  smile  that  at  times  made  her  face  absolutely 
beautiful ;  "  why  should  I  be  offended  ?  I  am  glad  you 
have  cared  to  talk  to  me.  I  wished  so  much  to  meet  you 
and  know  you  — •  for  Jane's  sake." 

"And  for  Jane's  sake  you  will  not  forget  me  ?  " 

"No." 

I  cannot  take  upon  myself  to  say  what  answer  or  what 
equivocation  that  "  no  "  of  Esther's  was  intended  to  con- 
vey ;  but  Paul  seemed  satisfied  with  it ;  and  it  took  him  very 
nearly  another  hour  to  exhaust  the  subject  of  Miss  Dash- 
wood's  messages,  and  to  impress  upon  Esther's  mind  the 
extreme  improbability,  even  if  they  should  meet,  of  her 
ever  giving  him  her  full  and  undivided  attention  again. 
"  I  believe  I  must  go  away  now,"  he  remarked,  at  last. 
"I  hear  sounds  of  Mrs.  Tudor's  being  about  to  win  her 
last  game,  and  it  will  be  wise  of  me  to  escape  before  Miss 
Whitty  requires  an  escort  home.  Don't  come  in,  thank 
you.  I  will  say  good-bye  to  you  here." 

"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Chichester." 

"  Does  myrtle  grow  on  these  sea-side  balconies,  Miss 
Fleming  ?  A  subtle  sense  of  its  presence  has  seemed 
close  to  me  all  this  evening.  Really,  if  I  could  see  where 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  167 

it  grows  I  would  ask  you  to  give  me  a  piece.  One 
doesn't  get  myrtle  in  London  at  this  season  of  the  year." 

"There  is  no  myrtle  here  but  this  little  piece  I  have  in 
my  belt.  It  is  fading  already.  I  brought  it  yesterday 
with  some  other  flowers  all  the  way  from  Devonshire.  It 
is  not  worth  your  having."  And  she  gave  it  to  him. 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Fleming.  You  are  very  kind  ;  and 
I  do  not  misinterpret  your  kindness.  Thank  you.  Good 
night." 

He  held  her  hand  closely  for  a  second,  then  left  her 
and  in  another  minute  had  got  through  his  compliments 
to  the  ladies  in  the  drawing-room,  and  left  the  house. 

"  The  Miss  Dash  woods  seem  to  have  sent  long"  messa- 

o 

ges,  remarked  Mrs.  Tudor,  when  Esther  at  last  made  her 
appearance.  "  If  the  young  man  could  really  remember 
stories  that  took  him  over  an  honr  and  a  half  to  deliver, 
he  must  be  a  more  devoted  lover  than  I  thought  him." 

"  And  I  think  I  must  get  you  to  show  me  that  way  of 
turning  back  the  hair,  Miss  Fleming,"  whispered  Miss 
Whitty,  as  she  was  preparing  to  depart-  "  It  gives  a  soft, 
pensive  look  to  the  face  that  is  really  most  interesting." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

SCRUPLES. 

WHEN  Esther  found  herself  alone  for  the  night  her  first 
action  was  to  unlock  the  little  box  in  which  she  kept 
those  priceless  treasures,  Mr.  Oliver  Carew's  letters,  and 
spread  them  out,  lovingly,  before  her  sight. 

She  felt  (in  her  profound  ignorance  of  human  nature, 
her  own  especially)  as  though  the  very  touch  of  these 
letters  would  do  her  good  :  as  though  she  had  but  to  read 


168  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

them  over  to  feel  how  marvellously  superior  their  writer 
was  to  Paul  Chichester  and  every  other  man  living.  And 
yet  she  knew,  instinctively,  that  she  dared  not,  in  her 
present  state  of  mind,  open  the  last.  One  or  two  terribly 
ill-constructed,  not  to  say  ungrammatical  sentences,  rank- 
led too  freshly  in  her  memory  yet  for  that :  the  earlier 
letters,  all  full  of  warmth  and  truth  and  tender  recollec- 
tions of  their  walks  at  Countisbury,  those  were  what  she 
needed  to  calm,  to  refresh  her  in  this  strange  fever  in 
which  she  found  her  thoughts !  And  so,  after  going  duly 
through  the  initiatory  rites  always  performed  upon  the 
opening  of  that  sacred  repository,  the  letters  were  brought 
forth  slowly,  one  by  one,  and  read. 

She  wished  she  had  left  them  alone :  she  wished,  at 
least,  she  had  not  read  them  till  to-morrow  Never  before 
had  they  seemed  so  trite  and  schoolboy-like  as  at  that 
particular  moment,  when  she  would  have  given  all  for 
them  to  prove  clever,  or,  at  least,  decently  well-expressed. 
She  could  have  written  better  letters  when  she  was  eleven  ; 
Joan,  David,  anybody  could  write  better  letters.  Why, 
some  of  the  sentences  began  in  one  tense  and  ended  in 
another;  and  some,  if  you  investigated  them  strictly, had 
no  very  immediate  meaning  at  all ;  and  some,  which 
should  have  been  long  and  overflowing  with  feeling,  were 
bald  and  curt ;  and  others  (full  of  such  interesting  de- 
tails as  the  excellent  dinners  on  board,  or  the  price  he  had 
settled  to  give  for  a  grey  mare)  were  involved  and  lengthy ; 
and  all  were  in  the  style  of  the  "Polite  Letter- Writer :  " 
and  all  —  very  bitterly  she  reiterated  this  —  were  worse 
in  thought  and  style,  too,  than  she  herself  could  have 
written  when  she  was  eleven  years  old. 

And  what  if  they  were  ?  Is  it  not  proverbial  that 
English  lads,  fresh  from  public  schools,  can  scarcely  spell 
their  own  names  ?  that  all  young  men  are  bad  correspon- 
dents? that  Oliver  had,  himself,  asked  her  indulgence  for 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  169 

his  letters?  And  was  she  in  love  with  Oliver  Care w,  or 
with  his  letters  ?  Were  his  generous,  manly  qualities  to 
be  outweighed  by  defective  syntax  and  doubtful  orthogra- 
phy ?  He  had  never  assumed  intellect :  she  had  chosen 
of  her  own  free  will,  to  fall  in  love  with  him  simply  as  he 
was.  This  very  night  she  had  told  Paul  Chichester  that 
she  would  deliberately  shut  her  eyes  to  all  faults  in  the 
pei-son  she  loved  ;  and  here  she  was  carping  over  the  one 
very  small  demerit  that  it  was  possible  for  her  to  find  in 
her  poor  absent  Oliver.  Paul  Chichester:  she  wished  she 
had  never  seen  him.  In  some  way  or  other  he  was  the 
cause  of  her  taking  out  those  letters,  and  seeing  mistakes 
in  them  and  bein^  bitter  over  them.  Did  she  think  him 

o 

so  immeasurably  superior,  then,  in  intellect  to  the  man 
who  was  to  be  her  companion  for.  life  ? 

Quite  in  a  flush  of  indignant  denial  at  the  suggestion 
Miss  Fleming  sprang  up,  and,  after  tenderly  storing  away 
the  letters,  but  wisely  abstaining  from  reading  another 
word  of  them,  locked  up  her  little  desk  and  put  it  away 
out  of  her  sight.  Paul  Chichester  superior  to  Oliver !  the 
idea  was  monstrous.  To  reflect  upon  its  enormity  at  her 
ease  she  hid  her  candle  in  the  further  corner  of  her  room, 
then  seated  herself  on  the  floor  by  the  window,  bent 
down  her  face  upon  her  knees,  and  began  to  look  out  at 
the  night. 

The  moon,  that  was  showing  faintly  across  the  downs 
when  Paul  first  spoke  to  her,  had  now  travelled  far  away 
southward,  and  was  shining  high  and  alone,  on  the  pure 
purple  of  the  midnight  sky.  Involuntarily  Esther  felt 
that  she  too  had  traveled  for  in  the  short  space  of  the 
last  few  hours  — that  she  had  quitted  forever  the  land  of 
dawning  dreams  —  had  stood  and  looked,  for  the  first 
time,  upon  the  wide  sea  of  actuM  life  and  actual  passion. 
Her  engagement  to  Oliver  had  never  made  her  feel  thus. 
.  «  .  What  had  made  her  feel  it  now  ? 


170  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Paul  Chichester  ? 

She  wished  again  she  had  never  seen  Paul  Chichester. 
The  chance  accident  of  likeness  to  the  picture  at  Coun- 
tisbury  gave  her  a  kind  of  foolish  interest  in  his  face 
which  she  was  far  from  extending  to  Mr.  Chichester  him- 
self. What  was  there,  if  one  came  to  reason  calmly,  that 
was  superior  about  him?  His  appearance?  why,  most 
people,  no  doubt,  would  think  Oliver,  with  his  fine  broad 
shoulders  and  ruddy  face,  a  vast  deal  better  looking. 
And  what  mattered  looks,  too  ?  Was  a  man  better  for 
having  an  intellectual  forehead  and  refined  cast  of  fea- 
tures ?  Could  not  a  good  round,  Saxon  head  and  face  ex- 
press just  as  many  excellent  moral,  if  not  perhaps,  intel- 
lectual qualities,  as  any  sombre,  Yandyck  countenance  in 
the  world?  She  was  not  sure,  now,  that  she  thought 
Paul  Chichester  at  all  good-looking.  And  his  manner  ? 
abrupt  and  fitful ;  reserved  one  moment,  and  then  sud- 
denly advancing  to  the  most  intimate  confidences  the 
next!  Had  he  behaved  rightly  in  speaking  as  he  had 
done  of  Jane  ?  Had  he  not  confessed  to  acting  out  a 
systematic  course  of  deception  simply  for  the  sake  of  the 
pleasant  sensations  which  his  moral  experience  might 
occasion  to  himself?  And  was  not  [another  still,  small 
voice,  loq.~\  was  not  all  that  he  had  said  about  Jane  and 
about  his  engagement  half  a  jest  ?  Had  she,  Esther 
Fleming,  caught,  in  fact,  one  glimpse  of  Paul's  true  char- 
acter ?  Did  not  his  face  and  voice  tell  of  qualities  wide- 
ly different  to  any  that  their  brief  conversation  had  call- 
ed forth  ?  Had  he  not  talked  down  to  her  —  as  men  do 
to  foolish  girls  of  eighteen?  Oliver  had  not  talked  downj 
to  her,  because  —  because  —  he  was  so  young  himself  not 
yet  one-and-twenty,  and  Paul  Chichester  was  quite  old  — 
thirty,  she  should  think,  a  dozen  years  older  than  herself. 

Still,  she  would  certainly  like  to  know  something  more 
of  him  than  what  he  was  when  he  was  talking  nonsense 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

and  asking  for  bits  of  myrtle  ;  —  that  myrtle  rankled  in 
Esther's  conscience,  so  she  tried  to  make  quite  light  of  it 
in  her  meditations.  It  would,  she  was  convinced,  be  pleas- 
ant to  be  intimate,  for  once,  with  some  one  altogether 
stronger  and  cleverer  than  herself.  Joan,  perhaps,  was 
cleverer ;  but  then  Joan  was  not  agreeable ;  David  was 
book-clever,  but  a  child  in  knowledge  of  life  and  of  human 
beings  ;  and  as  to  Oliver  —  well,  of  course  he  was  intense- 
ly agreeable,  and  had  seen  a  great  deal  more  of  the 
world  than  she  had  ;  but  Oliver  only  saw  on  the  surface, 
and  had  a  habit  of  opening  his  blue  eyes  wide  in  rather  a 
discouraging  way  if  she  tried  to  engage  him  in  any  little 
speculations  on  those  subjects  of  right  and  wrong,  and  of 
the  necessity  of  right  and  wrong,  existing,  which  to  her 
own  mind  had  been  quite  familiar  problems  since  the  time 
she  was  twelve  years  old.  Oliver,  in  short,  continually  got 
out  of  his  depth.  She  would  prefer  getting  out  of  her  own 
depth,  and  being  upheld  and  set  right  again  by  a  stronger 
mind  than  her  own. 

Then  she  preferred  Paul  as  a  companion  to  Oliver. 
The  desolating  conclusions  at  which  she  seemed  fated  to 
arrive  on  this  evening  overcame  Esther  with  quite  a  sharp 
pain.  Although  strong  enough  to  analyze  her  own  emo- 
tions, she  was  weak  enough  to  feel  shocked  at  the  result 
of  her  own  self-questioning ! 

"  Oliver,  you  are  first  with  me  —  Oliver,  I  will  never, 
even  to  myself,  allow  that  any  other  person  can  be  su- 
perior to  you ! " 

She  made  this  exposition  of  faith  aloud,  for  greater 
solemnity,  as  she  took  one  more  look  at  the  sea  after 
putting  out  her  candle  ;  and  then  she  went  to  her  rest, 
poor  child  !  and  dreamt,  not  of  Oliver  Carew,  but  of  the 
little  old  Vandyck  upon  the  wall  at  Countisbury. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE    TRIALS    OF    TOAD-EATING. 

A  MONTH  at  the  seaside  was  the  utmost  limit  which 
Mrs.  Tudor's  regard  for  health,  or  even  for  fashion,  could 
enable  her  to  live  through.  She  missed  her  whist,  she 
missed  her  enemies,  she  missed  her  doctor,  she  missed 
her  friends :  she  almost  missed  her  accustomed  pew  in 
church.  And  then  Wilson  was  so  dissatisfied.  Wilson 
averred  that  her  bed  had  lumps  like  bullets  in  it:  Wilson 
never  found  the  seaside  agree  for  long  together  with  her 
head :  the  lodging  people  did  not  prepare  buttered  toast 
to  Wilson's  taste.  How  was  it  possible  to  remain  more 
than  a  month  in  a  place  where  Wilson  could  not  get  pro- 
perly-arranged buttered  toast  for  her  tea  ? 

"  I  really  don't  know  what  we  should  have  done  with- 
out you  Miss  Whitty,"  said  Esther,  kindly,  as,  on  the 
morning  of  their  departure,  Whitty  was  fastening  on  la- 
bels and  tying  up  parcels  for  Mrs.  Tudor.  "  Aunt  Tha- 
lia would  scarcely  have  lived  through  each  day  as  it  came 
round  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  prospect  of  your  game 
at  piquet  in  the  evening." 

"  Oh  dear,  no !  Miss  Fleming,"  answered  poor  Miss 
Whitty,  humbly.  "It  is  very  good  of  you  to  say  so;  but 
I  am  sure  playing  with  me  for  nothing  must  have  been 
dull  work  after  all  your  aunt  is  accustomed  to  at  home. 
If  I  have  afforded  my  little  quota  of  amusement,  it  is,  of 
course,  very  gratifying  to  reflect  on  —  very  gratifying  in- 
deed. I  can  never  do  enough  in  return  for  all  dear  Mrs. 
Tudor's  great  benefits  to  me." 

Esther  had  never  yet  been  able  to  find  out  what  were, 
in  real,  solid  fact,  the  benefits  accorded  to  Miss  Whitty 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  173 

by  Mrs.  Tudor.  She  knew  that  Whitty  occupied  the 
parlors  beneath  Mrs.  Tudor's  drawing-rooms  in  Bath,  and 
that  she  was  always  ready  to  play  double-dummy  or  pi- 
quet when  required,  or  to  prepare  the  rooms  for  a  party, 
or  to  make  tea  in  the  back  drawing-room,  or  to  put  away 
the  plate  again  in  silver-paper,  or  clean  the  vases,  or  wind 
up  the  time-piece,  or  perform  any  other  office  for  which 
Mistress  Wilson  was  either  too  high  or  too  low.  But 
none  of  these  things  appeared  sufficient,  to  Esther's  un- 
tutored mind,  to  constitute  a  debt  of  gratitude  on  the 
part  of  Miss  Whitty.  She  could  never  hear  of  any  bene- 
fits more  substantial  than  a  rare  tea,  or  rarer  dinner,  or 
occasional  present  of  mouldying  jelly,  disclaimed,  no 
doubt,  by  Wilson,  after  a  party ;  and,  ignorant  of  the 
thorough  spaniel  qualities  inherent  in  persons  of  the 
Whitty  tribe,  she  began  to  think  her  a  very  amiable  wo- 
man indeed  for  putting  up  with  all  Mrs.  Tudor's  tempers, 
and  persisting  still  in  regarding  her  as  her  own  especial 
benefactress. 

On  this  occasion  of  their  journey  home  to  Bath,  Miss 
Whitty  was  to  accompany  them,  Mrs.  Tudor,  from  mo- 
tives hereafter  to  be  unfolded  to  Esther,  generously  pay- 
ing the  difference  between  first  and  second  class,  to  ena- 
ble her  to  travel  in  the  same  carriage  with  herself.  And 
so,  from  very  early  in  the  morning,  Miss  Whitty  had  been 
packing  and  unpacking,  and  cording  and  uncording,  with 
a  ready  subservience  to  all  Mrs.  Tudor's  caprices  that 
called  forth  many  withering  smiles  on  the  face  of  Wilson. 

"  Loto's  not  to  come  with  me,  ma'am,"  that  potentate 
announced  with  true  autocratic  abruptness,  at  a  very 
early  period  of  the  day.  "  I've  had  her  once,  and  I'm 
not  going  to  have  her  again,  not  on  any  account,  Mrs. 
Tudor." 

"  Oh,  but  Wilson,"  expostulated  Mrs.  Tudor,  aghast. 

"I'm  not  going  to  have  Loto  again,  ma'am,"  Wilson 


174  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

repeated,  with  an  inexorable  sniff  of  resolve.  "  I  know 
my  own  place,  and  I  travel  in  my  black  silk.  I  had  quite 
enough  of  such  disgusting  imdelicate  works  when  we 
came,  and  I  wouldn't  have  them  over  again  if  I  was  paid 
for  it." 

And  she  glanced  at  Miss  Whitty,  who,  hot  and  patient 
was  sewing  up  the  parrot's  cage  for  the  third  time,  as 
though  to  indicate  a  fitting  person  —  though  not  paid  for 
it  —  to  fulfill  the  office  that  was  so  much  beneath  herself. 

And  then  it  was,  when  Wilson  had  left  the  room,  that 
Mrs.  Tudor  made  the  generous  offer  to  Miss  Whitty  of 
accompanying  them  first  class.  "  It  wouldn't  be  agreea 
ble  for  you,  my  dear,  to  be  getting  in  the  same  set  of 
carriages  with  Wilson,  and  niece  and  myself  will  be  very 
glad  of  your  company." 

Esther  thought  the  offer  exceedingly  kind  for  Mrs 
Tudor,  as  it  really  involved  an  expenditure  of  several 
shillings  in  hard  money.  But  poor  Whitty  looked  rather 
red  and  hesitating  as  she  tendered  her  gratitude ;  and 
then,  in  a  very  weak  suggestive  voice,  remarked,  that  of 
course  Loto  would  go  with  the  other  dogs. 

"  Loto  will  not  go  with  the  other  dogs,  Miss  Whitty," 
said  Mrs.  Tudor  in  a  fierce  manner,  contrasting  forcibly 
with  the  humble  one  she  had  used  towards  Wilson. 
"  Loto  is  not  going  with  the  other  dogs,  to  get  bitten  and 
worried,  or  catch  the  distemper.  Esther,  my  dear,  you 
will  have  no  objection  to  my  little  favorite  being  in  the 
same  carriage  with  us  ?  " 

"  Oh  dear,  Mrs.  Tudor  !  Oh  my  dear  Mim  ! "  exclaim- 
ed Whitty,  in  a  moment,  "  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  take 
charge  of  Loto,  very  glad  indeed.  I'm  sure  it's  the  least 
I  can  do,  after  your  kindness  in  paying  for  me.  I  only  — 
only  meant,  you  know,  that  perhaps  the  railway  people 
might  not  allow  her  in  the  carriage." 

"Loto  must  be  wrapped  up,  Miss  Whitty,"  remarked 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  175 

Mrs.  Tudor,  with  slightly  relaxing  severity.  "  I  ain  per- 
fectly aware  of  that.  Loto  must  be  wrapped  up." 

"  In  my  shawl ! "  cried  Whitty,  with  exultation.  "  In 
my  shawl.  Dear  little  creature !  so  she  must,  of  course- 
I  wonder  I  didn't  think  of  it  before."  And,  under  the 
prospect  of  this  new  favor,  she  seemed  more  perseveringly 
amiable,  and  desirous  of  being  made  use  ofj  or  in  any 
way  trodden  under  foot,  than  usual,  during  the  rest  of 
the  morning. 

"Mrs.  Strangways  leaves  Weymouth  to-day,"  she  in- 
formed Esther  shortly  before  they  left.  "  I  heard  it  from 
my  lodging-girl,  who  knows  the  chambermaid's  sister  at 
the  York.  She  goes  by  the  two-twenty  train  as  we  do. 
Wouldn't  it  be  a  remarkable  coincidence."  (Whitty 
thought  everything  was  a  remarkable  coincidence)  "  if  we 
were  to  travel  in  the  same  carriage  ?  She's  going  back  to 
Bath  to  join  her  husband.  He's  a  queen's  messenger,  you 
know,  and  returned  from  St.  Petersburg  last  night.  The 
telegraph  —  the  telegram,  I  mean  to  say  —  arrived  quite 
late  in  the  evening,  and  she  sat  up  packing  half  the  night. 
Most  devoted,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"Devoted  to  return  to  her  husband?  Well,  Miss 
Whitty,  I  really  can't  see  it  quite  in  that  light.  Besides, 
as  she  is  not  leaving  till  this  afternoon,  she  might  have 
deferred  it  till  the  morning,  and  so  have  spared  herself  the 
trouble  of  being  devoted  at  all." 

Esther  had  been  conscious,  -before  ever  seeing  her,  of 
an  instinctive  dislike  .to  Mrs.  Strangways  ;  and  that  bow 
and  smile  she  had  once  seen  her  accord  to  Paul  Chiches- 
ter,  strangely  enough,  had  not  dispossessed  her  of  the 
prejudice ;  so  she  was  by  no  means  warm  in  her  manner 
when  Mrs.  Strangways  came  up,  an  hour  later,  as  they 
were  waiting  upon  the  platform  for  the  train,  and  proffer- 
ed a  very  friendly  renewal  of  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Tu- 
dor. Mrs.  Strangways  had  seen  Mrs.  Tudor  several  times 


176  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

on  the  beach,  but  had  not  known  whether  Mrs.  Tudor  had 
recognised  her  or  not.  Sometimes  people  did  not  care  for 
the  trouble  of  making  or  renewing  acquaintance  by  the 
seaside.  She  had  met  Mrs.  Tudor  at  old  Mrs.  Bradshaw's 
last  winter,  and  at  Mrs.  Kennedy's  too.  The  general  was 
laid  up  with  the  gout  again.  Mrs.  Tudor  had  heard  it,  no 
doubt?  "And  this,"  turning  composedly,  and  staring 
straight  into  Esther's  face,  "this  is  Miss  Fleming,  I  am 
sure.  I  have  often  heard  of  Miss  Fleming  from  my  friend 
Jane  Dashwood." 

The  words  and  manner  were,  of  course,  irreproachable  ; 
yet  Esther  felt  that  Mrs.  Strangways  implied,  "this  great, 
raw,  country-looking  girl  must  be  Miss  Fleming.  There 
can't  be  two  such  persons  in  the  world  as  the  Miss  Flem- 
ing I  have  heard  of."  And  with  that  inborn  dignity  of 
hers,  which  was  fully  equal  to  all  Mrs.  Strangways'  arti- 
ficial assurance,  she  turned  away  as  soon  as  Mrs.  Tudor 
had  introduced  them,  and  began  quietly  asking  Miss 
Whitty  as  to  the  disposal  of  the  luggage. 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right,  I  think.  I'll  just  look  at  my  card 
again.  Six  cases  of  Mrs.  Tudor's  and  yours,  and  four  of 
Wilson's,  and  my  own  box,  and  the  parrot's  cage,  and 
umbrella,  and  air-cushion,  and  hand-bag,  and  basket.  It's 
all  quite  right ;  but,  oh  dear,  Miss  Fleming,  how  much  I 
wish  it  was  safe  for  Loto  to  go  with  the  other  dogs !  he's 
so  very  strange,  and  I  think  I  must  say  disagreeable  in 
his  temper  to-day." 

If  poor  Miss  Whitty  had  an  aversion  in  the  world  it 
was  for  dogs ;  if  there  had  been  anything  she  could  have 
refused  to  a  person  with  an  income  of  more  than  six  hun- 
dred a  year,  it  would  have  been  to  carry  a  dog  wrapped 
up  in  her  shawl.  And  then  Loto,  even  for  a  fat  old  lap- 
dog,  was  so  superlatively  disgusting !  Loto  made  asth- 
matic noises  as  she  breathed ;  Loto  had  a  disagreeable 
filminess  over  her  eyes  ;  Loto  was  vicious,  and  treacherous 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

and  snapping,  and  odious  in  every  sense.  The  sufferings 
of  the  celebrated  young  Spartan  with  his  fox  were  scarce- 
ly greater  than  what  Whitty  endured  as  she  .pressed  Loto 
to  her  heart  in  her  endeavors  to  screen  her  from  the  porters 
at  that  Wey  mouth  station. 

"  Keep  her  head  covered,  Miss  Whitty,  keep  her  head 
covered,"  said  Mrs.  Tudor,  when  they  had  taken  their 
places  in  the  carriage.  "  Don't  mind  her  trying  to  bite, 
it's  only  a  playful  way  she  has.  Keep  her  well  covered 
up,  and  seat  yourself  back.  The  guard  will  be  coming  in 
directly  to  see  the  tickets." 

"And  if  I  should  be  found  out!  "  cried  Miss  Whitty, 
who,  between  her  exertions  with  Loto  and  the  fears  inci- 
dent to  her  sex  and  age,  that  some  one  had  taken  her  lug- 
gnge,  was  in  a  state  of  most  remarkable  heat.  "  If  they 
find  the  dog  out  at  the  last,  what  am  I  to  do  ?" 

"  Please  don't  raise  such  absurd  difficulties,  Miss  Whit- 
ty," said  Mrs.  Tudor,  tartly.  "  If  you  let  the  creature  be 
seen,  of  course  I  shall  have  to  pay  for  it.  But,  remem- 
ber, if  you  do,  make  no  application  to  me.  Discussions 
with  common  people  destroy  me.  For  the  time  being 
Loto  is  yours ;  I  wash  my  hands  of  her.  Esther,  my  dear, 
come  and  sit  with  me  at  my  end  of  the  carriage.  It  is 
necessary  for  Miss  Whitty  to  have  a  window  to  herself, 
in  case  poor  Loto  requires  air." 

By  dint  of  incessant  feeding  with  sandwich  and  bis- 
cuijts,  to  say  nothing  of  occasional  sharp  nips  round  Lo- 
to's  throat,  Miss  Whitty  actually  succeeded  in  evading  all 
the  official  vigilance  of  Wey  mouth,  and  Esther  was  just 
hoping  that  they  were  to  travel  without  Mrs.  Strangways 
for  a  companion,  when,  at  the  last  moment,  a  clear  ring- 
ing laugh  announced  that  lady  to  be  still  waiting  upon  the 
platform. 

"Empty  carriage  here,"  drawled  a  tall,  silly-looking  lad 
of  eighteen,  glancing  superciliously  for  a  moment,  with 
8* 


178        THE  OR  DEAL  FOR  WIVES. 

very  elevated  eyebrows,  across  poor  Miss  Whitty's  shrink- 
ing figure.  "  Room  here,  Mrs.  Strangways,  if  you  don't 
mind  being  so  near  the  engine." 

"  Oh  I  shall  be  quite  safe,  thank  you.  Minnie  will  take 
care  of  me,  won't  you,  Minnie  ?  Good-bye,  Edward.  Now 
mind,  we  are  to  see  a  great  deal  of  you  in  town  next 
spring.  I  shall  never  forgive  you  if  you  don't  come  and 
see  me  at  once.  Good-bye."  And  then  there  was  a  very 
warm  leave-taking,  and,  as  it  seemed  to  Esther,  a  rather 
conspicuous  affectation  of  tenderness  on  "  Edward's  "  face, 
as  he  whispered  parting  compliments  in  the  ear  of  this 
lady,  who,  in  spite  of  her  tiny  hat,  and  turned-back  hair, 
and  manner  of  girlish  heartiness,  was  still  very  nearly  old 
enough  to  be  his  own  mother. 

"  Edward  "  continued  to  stand  by  the  carriage,  carry- 
ing on  an  inaudible  conversation  with  Mrs.  Strangways 
until  the  train  started ;  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  could 
Mrs.  Strangways'  eyes  disengage  themselves  sufficiently 
from  the  fastening  of  her  glove  to  perceive  that  there 
were  other  occupants  beside  herself  in  the  carriage. 
"  Mrs.  Tudor,  how  very  glad  I  am  !  You  are  going  to 
Bath,  of  course  ?  We  shall .  be  fellow-travelers  for  the 
remainder  of  the  day,  then  !  And  Miss  Fleming.  I  had 
not  perceived  you  before  ;  these  horrid  walls  in  the  centre 
divide  the  carriages  so  completely  in  two." 

"  I  think  those  walls  are  the  great  advantage  of  the 
Great  Western  and  its  branches,"  said  Esther.  "  They 
enable  one  just  to  see  as  much  as  one  chooses  and  no  more, 
of  one's  fellow-passengers." 

It  was  unlike  Esther  Fleming  to  make  so  rude  a  speech, 
but  some  invincible  desire  seemed  to  propel  her  towards 
being  disagreeable  to  Mrs.  Strangways.  Her  Aunt  Tha- 
lia heard  her  with  complacence.  It  was  a  decided  imper- 
tinence for  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Strangways  to  pretend  she 
had  not  seen  her,  Mrs.  Tudor,  sooner  j  a  woman  in  a  doubt- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  179 

ful  set,  with  a  questionable  reputation,  and  an  income  de 
pendent  upon  her  husband's  services  as  queen's  messenger ! 
Mrs.  Tudor  was  glad  to  see  that  Esther,  young  as  she  was, 
knew  how  to  set  people  down,  on  occasion,  and  also  what 
kind  of  people  it  was  right  to  set  down. 

"  I  think  I  know  that  little  lad's  face  you  were  talking 
to,  Mrs.  Strangways ;  he's  one  of  the  Stantons,  just  the 
same  silly  white  face  as  his  mother.  I  suppose  he  and 
your  young  people  are  friends.  Has  your  eldest  son  left 
school  yet  ?  I  forget." 

"  My  eldest  son,  dear  Mrs.  Tudor  !  my  children  are  quite 
little.  Minnie,  darling,  corne  and  say  how  do  you  do  to 
Mrs.  Tudor." 

But  Mrs.  Strangways'  eyes  flashed.  The  ages  of  her 
three  eldest  children  were  bitter  drops  in  her  cup,  thorns 
in  her  side,  weapons  of  cruel  sharpness,  ever  ready  to  the 
hand  of  all  female  friends  who  chanced  to  stand  in  need 
of  any  extraneous  weapon  of  attack.  Date's  of  all  other 
kinds  may  be  falsified  ;  but  what  can  put  back  the  livingj 
tangible  attestation  conveyed  by  children  of  eleven,  twelve 
and  thirteen  years  of  age  ?  Children  tall  of  their  age, 
too.  The  only  way,  and  that  a  precarious  one,  of  sup- 
pressing such  evidence  is  to  keep  any  unpleasantly-old 
children  as  much  as  possible  at  school,  and  out  of  sight ; 
and  this  Mrs.  Strangways  did,  reserving  for  her  own  com- 
panion her  youngest  child,  Minnie,  who  by  reason  of  be- 
ing pretty,  and  like  herself,  and  small  of  her  years,  and 
considerably  younger  than  the  others,  absorbed  very  near- 
ly all  the  maternal  instincts  which  Mrs.  Strangways'  scan- 
tily-endowed nature  could  supply. 

The  results  of  alternate,  unbounded  indulgence  and 
absolute  neglect,  want  of  exercise  by  day,  and  sitting  up 
late  at  night,  did  not  seem  to  be  very  happy  ones  on 
Miss  Minnie  Strangways,  whose  small  face  was  sallow  and 
pinched,  and,  even  at  five  years  old,  already  wore  a  good 


180  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

deal  of  the  anxious,  restless  look  of  her  mother's.  "  I  don't 
want  to  change  my  place,  thank  you,  ma,"  was  her  an- 
swer to  her  mother's  request.  "I  don't  want  to  come  by 
you.  I  like  to  stop  here  and  look  at  this  woman  and  her 
dog."  And  then  Minnie  perched  her  small  feet  up  on  the 
opposite  seat,  and  re-commenced  staring  poor  Miss  Whitty 
out  of  countenance  with  an  air  of  cool  superiority  and 
aplomb  that  was  good  to  see. 

"  Your  daughter  appears  used  to  have  her  own  way," 
said  Mrs.  Tudor,  "  like  most  of  the  other  young  people 
of  this  generation." 

"  Oh,  poor  little  thing !  she  is  shockingly  spoiled ;  so 
much  with  me,  you  see,  and  no  companion  of  her  own 
age.  I  believe,  really,  I  ought  to  get  her  a  governess, 
but  it  would  take  her  so  much  out  of  my  hands,  I  can't 
make  up  my  heart  to  it." 

"  And  you  would  find  a  governess  a  very  heavy  ex- 
pense,  Mrs.  Strangways,  as  you  travel  so  much.  I  believe 
I  have  heard  that  you  frequently  join  Mr.  Strangways 
when  his  services  carry  him  abroad  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Tom  will  have  me  go  to  meet  him  whenever 
I  can.  It  is  a  great  pity  —  it  obliges  me  to  part  from  the 
other  children.  Minnie  and  I  had  to  rush  off  to  Austria 
last  Christmas,  and  when  we  got  to  Vienna,  Mr.  Strang- 
ways had  left  for  somewhere  else,  and  I  had  to  stay  there 
in  all  the  horrid,  cold,  German  winter  by  myself." 

"  So  I  heard,"  remarked  Mrs.  Tudor  curtly  :  the  world, 
in  general,  had  not  been  behind  hand  in  making  many  kind- 
ly surmises  as  to  that  last  Viennese  expedition  of  Mrs. 
Strangways.  "Esther,  my  love,  come  and  sit  by  me. 
Do  you  remark  that  little  village  to  the  left?  That  is 
where  your  Aunt  Engleheart  and  I  once  lived  in  our 
young  days." 

Mrs.  Strangways  leant  her  head  back  quickly  in  her 
corner,  and  the  expression  of  her  face  told  Esther  that 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Mrs.  Tu dor's  manner  had  taken  effect.  After  expressing 
due  interest  in  the  two  farm-roofs  and  half  a  church  spire 
that  could  be  seen  through  the  trees,  she  began  to  reflect 
what  kind  of  life  this  woman's  opposite  her  must  be  :  this 
woman,  in  the  prime  of  life  still,  with  children,  sufficient 
means,  all  the  things  that  go  so  long  a  way  towards  mak- 
ing up  happiness ;  but  whom,  in  spite  of  all  her  cool  as- 
surance, so  many  chance  shafts  from  alien  hands  had  pow- 
er to  wound,  and  upon  whose  handsome  face  unrest  and 
discontent  were  already  written  in  handwriting  not  to  be 
mistaken. 

Mrs.  Strangways  was  very  handsome  ;  perhaps  it 
would  not  be  too  much  to  say  that  she  was  beautiful. 
She  had  taken  her  hat  off  now,  and  was  leaning  her  head 
back  with  her  eyes  closed,  so  Esther  was  able  to  scrutinize 
her  closely.  The  delicate  blue-veined  temples,  off  which 
the  blonde,  luxuriant  hair  was  braided  back,  the  straight 
fine  brows,  the  full  rich  lips,  the  graceful  lines  —  though 
slightly  shrunken  now  —  of  cheek  and  neck,  all  belonged 
to  a  higher  class  of  beauty  than  anything  Esther  had 
seen  before.  Her  own  opinion  might  be  that  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways' eyes,  in  spite  of  all  their  blue,  were  cold  and  hard  of 
expression ;  that  the  mouth  was  sensual,  the  whole 
beauty  too  Cleopatra-like.  The  beauty  itself  was  indis- 
putable. No  man  would  stop  to  ask  himself  what  kind 
of  mind  or  soul  looked  out  from  so  perfectly  fair  a  face  ! 
No  man  would  think  herself,  Esther  Fleming,  anything 
but  a  dark,  heavy-looking  girl,  beside  Mrs.  Strangways, 
although  one  was  eighteen  and  the  other  two  or  three 
and  thirty  at  least.  What  did  Paul  really  think  of  her  ? 
Esther  wondered.  He  had  evaded  the  subject;  he  had 
implicated  opinions  the  reverse  of  favorable  of  her  as  a 
companion  for  Jane.  But  then,  how  sweetly  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways had  smiled  upon  him !  Whatever  else  his  senti- 
ments, any  man  receiving  a  sweet  smile  from  such  a  mouth 


182  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

could  have  no  other  opinion  than  that  Mrs.  Strangways 
was  one  of  the  most  beautiful,  the  most  fascinating  wo- 
men in  the  world ! 

Just  as  she  reached  this  point  in  her  meditations,  Mrs. 
Strangways  opened  her  eyes.  "  You  know  Paul  Chiches- 
ter,  Miss  Fleming,  don't  you  ?  "  she  asked,  abruptly. 

"  I  know  him  slightly,"  answered  Esther,  and  she  felt 
thankful  that  she  possessed  self-control  enough  not  to 
color  before  Mrs.  Strangways.  "His  engagement  to 
Jane  Dash  wood  has  of  course,  made  me  hear  a  good  deal 
of  him." 

Mrs.  Strangways  laughed,  and  her  laugh  had  a  very 
bitter  ring  in  it.  "  Paul  Chichester's  engagement  to  Jane 
Dash  wood!  How  simply  you  said  that,  Miss  Fleming ! 
Has  Jane  really  made  you  believe  Mr.  Chichester  will 
marry  her  ?  " 

"  Miss  Dash  wood  has  said  very  little  to  me  on  the  sub- 
ject. I  believe  the  engagement  is  considered  an  open 
one." 

"  Open,  but  none  the  less  sure  of  ending  in  smoke ! 
Why,  every  one  knows  that  poor  Jane  Dash  wood  is  over 
head  and  ears  in  love  with  some  one  else.  And  as  to 
Paul  —  as  to  Mr.  Chichester,  I  mean  —  he  never  makes 
any  concealment  of  his  fixed  intention  of  not  marrying  at 
all." 

Miss  Whitty,  from  her  corner,  heard  this  and  looked 
up  quite  excited.  "  Mr.  Chichester  never  means  to  marry  ! 
What  a  remarkable  thing,  and  such  a  young  man,  too  \ 
There  must  be  something  in  the  back-ground,  for  certain  ; 
better  not  inquire,  perhaps !  Miss  Fleming,  who  would 
ever  have  thought,  that  moonlight  night  when  he  was 
giving  you  Miss  Dash  wood's  messages  on  the  balcony  be- 
hind the  curtains,  you  know,  that  he  was  not  a  marrying 
man  ?  I  don't  know  that  I  have  been  so  surprised  by 
hearing  anything  for  a  long  time.  If  one  was  intimately 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  183 

acquainted  with  Colonel  Dash  wood,  now,  it  would  be 
positively  one's  duty  to  acquaint  him  of  the  circumstan- 
ces." 

"  Of  what  circumstances,  Miss  Whitty  ?  "  asked  Esther, 
with  a  quiet  smile. 

"Why,  of  Mr.  Chichester  giving  out  he  does  not  intend 
to  marry,  and  yet  continuing  to  court  Miss  Dash  wood  all 
the  time.  It  is  just  the  kind  of  thing  to  break  a  young 
girl's  heart :  really  I  have  no  patience  with  such  men." 

"  I  don't  think  you  need  have  any  fears  for  Miss  Dash- 
wood,  She  is  not  a  girl  at  all  likely  to  break  her  heart, 
nor  I  should  think  was  Mr.  Chichester  a  man  to  act  dis- 
honorably." 

"  You  speak  with  warmth,  Miss  Fleming,"  said  Mrs. 
Strangways.  "  Paul  Chichester  should  be  indebted  to 
you  for  your  kind  defence  of  him." 

It  was  with  great  difficulty  Esther  could  restrain  her- 
self from  resenting  the  implied  impertinence  of  the 
speech ;  but  she  did  so:  and  probably  her  cool  silence  ir- 
ritated her  antagonist  more  than  the  bitterest  retort  she 
could  have  made.  It  was  evident  to  Mrs.  Strangways 
that  the  girl  knew  more  of  the  whole  matter  than  she  ei- 
ther said  or  intended  to  say ;  evident  that  Paul  was  not 
a  stranger  to  her,  and  that,  while  she  professed  to  believe 
in  his  engagement,  she  was  not  one  whit  surprised  to  hear 
of  his  intention  of  not  marrying.  Was  there  more  still  than 
this  ?  Could  Paul,  who  professedly  never  'admired  any  but 
fair,  refined  women,  be  taken  by  the  rude  hearty  good- 
looks,  the  mere  country  flesh-and-blood  comeliness  of  a  face 
like  that  ? 

Mrs.  Strangways  leaned  her  head  back  in  the  corner  of 
the  carriage,  after  curtly  desiring  her  daughter  to  come 
and  sit  beside  her  at  once ;  Miss  Fleming  commenced  a 
cheerful  conversation  with  Whitty  upon  the  probabilities 
of  Loto's  sleep  lasting  until  they  reached  Bath  —  and  pos- 


184  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

sessed,  I  suppose,  by  that  sort  of  magnetic  influence  which 
communicates  itself  to  any  two  women  who  are,  or  ever 
shall  be,  rivals —  not  another  word,  not  another  look  was 
exchanged  between  them  during  all  the  remainder  of 
the  time  that  they  continued  in  enforced  companionship. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

AN    UNKNOWN    R  I  Y  A  L. 

A  FRIEND  was  waiting  on  the  platform  at  Bath  to  receive 
Mrs.  Strangways  when  they  arrived  —  a  tall  and  hand- 
some friend;  older,  and  very  different  looking  to  the 
Edward  of  Weymfmth  ;  but  who,  apparently,  stood  quite 
as  high  as  that  young  gentleman  himself  in  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways' regards. 

"  Is  that  her  husband,  Aunt  Thalia  ?  "  Esther  asked,  as 
she  and  Mrs.  Tudor  were  standing  waiting  for  Whitty  and 
the  luggage.  "Is  that  very  good-looking  person  who  is 
talking  to  Mrs.  Strangways  her  husband  ?  " 

"  That  very  good-looking  person  is  Arthur  Peel,"  answer- 
ed Mrs.  Tudor,  "  Whatever  man  you  see  beside  Mrs. 
Strangways,  at  any  time,  or  in  any  place,  you  may  feel 
very  safely  assured  is  not  her  own  husband.  That  woman 
is  outstepping  all  bounds.  I  shall  desire  you  to  be  careful 
in  recognizing  her  until  I  have  made  out,  exactly,  at  what 
houses  she  is  received  at  present." 

Esther  had  not  time  then  to  trouble  herself  further 
about  either  Arthur  Peel  or  Mrs.  Strangways,  but  the  next 
morning,  during  an  early  visit  that  she  received  from  the 
Dashwoods,  she  mentioned  the  twilight  meeting  which  she 
had  seen  the  night  before  on  the  platform.  "  Is  it  neces- 
sary for  Mrs.  Strangways'  safety  that  some  one  should 
always  receive  her  and  see  her  off  when  she  travels,  Miss 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES 

Dashwood  ?  or  do  you  suppose  that  "  Edward  "  and  Mr. 
Peel  were  both  what  poor  Miss  Whitty  would  call  'happy 
coincidences?  ' " 

"Coincidences!  not  a  bit,"  said  Jane;  and  her  face 
turned  rather  red.  "  The  little  wretch  you  saw  at  Wey- 
mouth  was  one  of  her  boys,  no  doubt,  the  fearful  boys 
that  she  always  manages  to  get  round  her  in  the  country 
or  at  the  sea-side  — faute  de  mieux  !  (and  as  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways  grows  older  it  is  an  undoubted  fact  that  her  wor- 
shippers grow  younger)  ;  as  to  Arthur " 

"  As  to  Arthur,  Jenny  ? "  asked  Millicent,  somewhat 
maliciously. 

"Well,  I  don't  mind  saying  deliberately,  that  Mrs. 
Strangways  writes  to  him  —  I  have  seen  her  notes  num- 
bers of  times  —  writes  and  asks  him,  in  that  sort  of  way 
she  has,  to  meet  her  at  such  an  hour  on  such  a  day.  "  It 
would  be  quite  a  kindness  to  Mr.  Strangways,  who  has 
another  engagement,"  etcetera.  Then,  of  course,  Arthur 
goes.  How  could  he  refuse  to  go,  even  if  he  wished  ?  " 

"And  with  what  object  does  she  ask  him  ?  "  said  Esther. 
"  What  can  be  any  woman's  object  in  compromising  her 
own  self-respect  for  so  very  slight  a  reward  as  Mr.  Arthur 
Peel's  companionship  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  when  we  are  past  thirty,  we  shall  know,'' 
replied  Jane,  petulantly ;  "  that  is  to  say,  if  we  are  still 
eager  and  athirst  for  attention  and  willing  to  cast  our  rep- 
utation away  with  our  own  hands,  sooner  than  not  be 
spoken  of  at  all,  as  she  is.  Wait  till  you  have  known  her 
longer  before  you  try  to  analyze  Mrs.  Strangways'  mo- 
tives, Miss  Fleming.  If  you  have  a  turn  for  moral  dis- 
section, like  Paul,  I  can  assure  you  her  character  is  well 
worth  attention.  I  used  to  study  her,  myself,  until,  one 
day,  the  thought  struck  me  that  most  probably  she  was 
what  I  should  be  myself,  in  another  dozen  years,  and  then 
1  gave  up  the  whole  investigation  in  disgust.  You  have 


186  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

seen  Paul,  by  the  way?  he  told  me  all  about  you  in  a  let- 
ter —  oh  yes,  he  does  write  to  me  —  such  queer  love- 
letters  —  I  must  show  you  some  of  them  !  Do  you  like 
him  ?  He  was  very  guarded,  and  didn't  say  whether  he 
talked  to  you  for  five  minutes  or  five  hours,  or  alone  or 
before  your  aunt.  Do  you  think  him  handsome  ?  do  you 
think  I  have  chosen  well  ?  " 

;  "  Esther  thinks  him  too  good  for  you,  Jane,"  said  MilJy, 
as  Esther  hesitated,  visibly.  "  You  know  you  always  pre- 
dicted that  they  would  like  each  other  amazingly  at  first 
sight  —  elective  affinity,  and  all  that.  Don't  be  jealous, 
now,  if  your  own  prophecies  turn  out  to  be  true  ones. 
Esther  thinks  him  a  great  deal  too  good  to  be  wasted  on 
such  a  very  remarkable  description  of  engagement  as 
yours." 

"  I  think  I  know  scarcely  anything  of  Mr.  Chichester," 
said  Esther.  "  I  should  say  he  was  not  a  man  to  be  judg- 
ed of  after  a  single  day's  acquaintance." 

"Nor  after  many  days'  acquaintance  added  Jane.  "I 
have  watched  him  pretty  closely  through  a  good  many 
of  his  moods,  and  I  verily  believe  I  know  him  less  now 
than  I  did  on  the  first  day  I  ever  saw  him." 

"  And  yet  you  must  have  had  singularly  good  oppor- 
tunities of  judging  of  his  character,"  remarked  Miss 
Fleming,  with  emphasis. 

"  Yes,  better  than  if  our  engagement  had  been  a  real 
one.  I  see  you  know  all  about  it ;  and  I  must  say  it  was 
base  of  Paul  to  be  the  first  to  tell  you.  When  people  are 
really  engaged,  they,  of  course,  never  speak  or  look  at 
each  other  without  acting — their  state  necessitates  it. 
Now  Paul  with  me  has  been  as  open  as  with  an  ordinary 
friend  —  more  so,  perhaps,  from  the  very  fact  of  our  sham- 
engagement  shutting  out  the  possibility  of  misconstruc- 
tion on  either  side." 

"But  surely  Mr.  Chichester  must  be  the  last  man  living 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  187 

to  fear  misconstruction,  Miss  Dash  wood.  As  he  openly 
proclaims  the  impossibility  of  his  ever  marrying  there 
cannot  be  danger  for  any  one,  however  intimate  with 
him." 

"  Who  told  you  that  Mr.  Chichester  was  never  going 
to  marry  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Chichester  himself." 

"  On  my  word,  Miss  Fleming,  he  seems  to  have  made 
the  most  of  his  time  at  Weymouth,  short  though  it  was !  " 

"  He  said  nothing  at  all  decided  upon  the  subject  —  I 
mean  "  —  for  Esther  here  recollected  Paul's  vague  hints 
to  her  on  that  moonlight  night  whose  merest  recollection 
still  had  power  to  stir  her  heart  so  strangely.  "  I  mean, 
nothing  that  could  be  put  into  actual  words.  It  was  Mrs. 
Strangways  who  said  so." 

"  Mrs.  Strangways !  what  an  excellent,  disinterested 
authority !  Did  she  know,  I  wonder,  that  you  were  ac- 
quainted with  Paul  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  She  saw  us  speaking  to  him  on  the  parade 
one  morning  and  then,  I  believe,  Miss  Whitty  told  her 
about  his  talking  to  me  on  the  balcony  that  evening  —  I 
mean " 

"  Oh  !  pray  don't  explain.  It  is  quite  evident  the  flirta- 
tion has  commenced  in  good  earnest.  I  wish  you  joy  of 
it,  Miss  Fleming,  and  I  will  promise  you  never  to  feel  jeal- 
ous ;  but  still,  as  you  have  already  reached  the  balcony 
stage,  I  think  it  my  duty,  as  a  friend,  to  state  that  Mrs. 
Strangways'  information,  though  spiteful,  is  quite  correct. 
Paul  Chichester  will  never  marry." 

"Oh!" 

"  He  told  me  so  once,  perhaps  with  a  man's  true  vanity, 
thinking  I  might  be  in  danger  if  he  did  not ;  and  there 
was  something  in  his  face  when  he  said  it  that  made  me 
feel  him  to  be  sincere  —  painfully  sincere.  Milly  enter- 
tains all  sorts  of  wonderful  theories  of  her  own  as  to  the 
real  cause  of  his  intentions  in  this  matter." 


188  THE  ORDEJIL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  And  of  his  moodiness  and  oddness  too,"  interrupted 
Milly.  "  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  "  theories," 
Jane.  I  judge  by  facts  ;  and  I  am  sure  the  extraordinary 
things  we  know  about  Paul  are  quite  enough  to  make 
any  one  think  as  I  do." 

"  The  extraordinary  things  being  that,  when  I  was  in 
own,  I  happened  twice  to  meet  him  in  Covent  Garden 
with  a  bouquet  of  white  flowers  in  his  hand,  and  that  here, 
in  Bath,  papa  frequently  sees  him  buying  white  flowers  in 
the  market.  Miss  Fleming,  what  supposition  do  you  im- 
agine Milly  grounds  upon  this  foundation  ?  " 

"  That  Mr.  Chichester  is  fond  of  flowers,  I  should 
think,"  said  Esther,  with  a  little  laugh  :  but,  in  spite  of 
herself,  her  spirit  sank  somewhat  as  she  spoke. 

"Fond  of  flowers!  what  nonsense !"  cried  Miss  Milli- 
cent,  indignantly.  "  As  if  men  were  ever  fond  of  flowers 
or  ever  bought  them  for  themselves  !  Besides,  what  was 
the  time  when  you  met  him  in  Covent  Garden?  —  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  Is  it  likely  he  would  go  out  at 
such  an  hour  to  get  flowers  for  himself?  "Would  he,  here 
in  Bath,  be  seen  out  in  the  market  before  breakfast,  and 
then  walking  away  with  his  flowers  across  Combe  Down 
in  a  pouring  rain  if  they  were  for  himself?  The  thing 
speaks  for  itself! " 

"  Then  whom  are  they  for,  Milly  ?  "  And,  having  had 
time  to  prepare  herself,  Esther  believed  that  she  now 
spoke  very  calmly  and  collectedly.  "  Who  is  the  happy 
recipient  of  Mr.  Chichester's  white  bouquets  ?  " 

"  Ah !  there  is  the  mystery.  Jane  suggested  that  he 
might  be  privately  married,  perhaps  ;  but  that  supposi- 
tion could  not  possibly  hold  good.  Who  ever  heard  of  a 
man  getting  up  early  to  buy  flowers  for  his  wife  ?  and 
the  most  expensive  ones,  too  !  Papa  took  it  for  granted 
they  were  all  coming  to  Jenny,  and  brought  us  home  such 
a  description  of  them  — roses,  and  azaleas,  and  everything 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        189 

that  was  hardest  to  be  bought.  Do  you  remember,  Jane, 
you  borrowed  my  last  five  shillings,  and  went  out  and  got 
some  like  them  at  once,  for  fear  papa  should  begin  mak- 
ing inquiries,  and  get  to  hear  more  than  was  convenient  ?  " 

"Yes;  and  those  I  saw  him  with  in  town  were  just  of 
the  same  expensive  kind,"  Miss  Dashwood  replied. 
"Moss  rose-buds,  and  white  heath,  and  rhododendron, 
early  in  May." 

"  Then,  whoever  it  may  be  that  the  flowers  reach,  she 
has  good  taste,"  said  Esther,  rather  shortly.  "  And,  as 
none  of  us  have  any  real  interest  in  Mr.  Chichester,  I  don't 
see  why  we  should  trouble  ourselves  by  speaking  of  things 
that  can  only  concern  him." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Miss  Fleming ! "  cried  Jane, 
starting  up  suddenly,  in  her  impulsive  fashion.  "  Milly, 
we  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  ourselves  for  giving  way  to 
such  undignified  curiosity.  I  shall  never  speak  about 
those  flowers  of  Paul's  again." 

"  But  I  shall,"  cried  Milly,  who  was  not  at  all  prone  to 
sudden  revulsions  of  delicacy.  "  Nothing  is  greater  fun 
to  me  than  routing  out  a  mystery ;  and  I  have  long  de- 
termined to  come  at  the  meaning  of  Paul's  flowers,  and  his 
oddness,  and  his  stealthy  comings  and  goings,  and  every- 
thing about  him.  I  have  had  a  capital  scheme  in  my  head 
for  some  time  past;  and  you,  and  Esther  too,  although 
you  may  be  too  high-minded  to  give  me  any  assistance, 
will  both  be  just  as  curious  as  me  to  hear  the  news,  when 
I  have  got  it." 

"  What  should  you  say  if  I  made  a  right  guess  about 
it  all,  now,  Milly,  and  so  saved  you  your  trouble?  Mr. 
Chichester  may  have  been  getting  flowers  all  this  time  for 
Mrs.  Strangways.  She  is  a  person  who,  I  should  imagine, 
would  not  mind  receiving  those  sorts  of  small  attentions, 
and  he  mentioned  having  been  acquainted  with  her  in 
London  as  well  as  in  Bath." 


190  -  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Now  I  fully  believe  that  Esther  said  this  to  turn  aside 
the  tacit  reproach  which  she  felt  her  former  remark  must 
have  conveyed  to  Jane ;  at  the  same  time,  and  giving  her 
credit  for  any  amount  of  honest  simplicity,  I  cannot  help 
thinking  she  had  also  some  desire,  some  latent  curiosity 
herself,  to  hear  Mrs.  Strangways'  name  mentioned  by 
the  Dash  woods  in  connection  with  Paul's. 

"You  dear,  verdant  old  Esther!"  cried  Milly.  "So 
like  you  to  fix  upon  the  one  wicked  thing  in  the  world 
that  will  never  come  to  pass !  Paul  Chichester  won't 
have  Mrs.  Strangways'  goodwill  at  any  price,  will  he, 
Jane?" 

"  I  think  it  a  great  pity  you  try  to  talk  slang,  Milly 
dear ;  you  do  it  so  badly,  and  it  dosen't  become  you." 

"  Oh  !  that's  very  fine,  Miss  Dash  wood.  I  have  heard 
you  say  the  same  thing  a  dozen  times,  at  least ;  but  you 
always  want  us  to  seem  better  than  we  are  before  Es- 
ther." 

"  What  is  it  that  you  have  heard  me  say,  Milly  ?  " 
"  That  Paul  won't  have  Mrs.  Strangways  at  any  price." 
"  I  am  sure  I  never  said  it  in  those  words,  which,  put- 
ting aside  their  vulgarity,  don't  mean  anything  whatever." 
"  Then   you  have  said  it  in  others  quite  as  expressive," 
persisted  Milly.     "  I  remember,  perfectly,  one  night  at  the 
Strangways'  (that  night  papa  did  not  go,  and  you  would 
sit  out  half  the  dances  with  Arthur  Peel,)  just  as  we  were 
leaving  the  cloak-room  you  congratulated  Paul  upon  Mrs. 

Strangways'  attention  to  him,  and  he  said " 

"  My  dear  Milly,  it  is  time  for  us  to  go,"  interrupted 
Jane  ;  but  she  reddened  somewhat  guiltily.  "  You  have 
talked  quite  nonsense  enough  for  one  occasion,  I  am  sure." 
But  Milly  was  not  to  be  silenced.  "  And  Paul  shrug- 
ged his  shoulders,  and  said,  "  No,  MissDashwood,  I  must 
really  disclaim  the  happiness  you  assign  to  me.  Mrs. 
Strangways  is  not  all  likely  to  take  any  trouble  about  so 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

insignificant  a  person  as  myself.  '  Le  jeu  ne  vaut  pas  la 
chandelle.'  I  remember  it  so  well  because  I  asked  you 
what  that  meant  in  English  as  we  were  driving  home." 

"  Then  all  I  can  say  is  that  it's  a  great  pity  you  have 
not  better  things  to  remember,  Milly.  Any  man  living 
might  be  excused  for  making  a  stupid  remark  at  the  fag 
end  of  one  of  Mrs.  Strangways'  stupid  '  At  Homes ; ' 
but  it  is  really  too  bad  that  such  speeches  should  be  chron- 
icled." 

And  then  Miss  Dashwood  so  resolutely  changed  the 
subject  by  discoursing  about  the  gaieties  that  they  were 
to  have  during  the  ensuing  winter,  and  her  hopes  that 
Miss  Fleming  would  be  induced  to  join  in  them,  that  Es- 
ther (whatever  in  her  heart  she  might  desire)  had  no  fur- 
ther opportunity  of  hearing  Paul  Chichester's  name  that 
day. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

CALUMNIATED. 

JANE  DASHWOOD  had  said  rightly  that  Mrs.  Strangways' 
nature  would  furnish  a  good  subject  for  moral  dissection  ; 
but  she  was  wrong  in  believing  it  one  that  Esther's  simple 
mind  could  ever  have  conducted. 

Esther,  like  all  untutored  people,  had  strong  instinctive 
likes  and  dislikes,  and  could  form  incisive  and  frequently 
correct  opinions  as  to  nearly  every  person  she  was  thrown 
with  ;  a  far  wider  experience  than  any  that  she,  happily, 
possessed  would  have  been  required  to  study  closely,  a 
character  so  complex  and  so  artificial  as  Mrs.  Strangways. 

"Eager  and  athirst  for  attention;  willing  to  cast  her 
own  repute  away  with  her  own  hands  sooner  than  not  be 
spoken  of  at  all ; "  Jane  Dash* wood's  precocious  knowledge 


192  THE   ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

of  the  baser  side  of  human  nature  had  prompted  her  to 
give  a  tolerably  true  summary  of  one  part  of  Mrs.  Strar  g 
ways'  character  in  the  remark,  that  to  Esther  had  seemed 
almost  unintelligible.  Supine  in  affection,  cold  in  love, 
passionless  in  passion,  there  was  yet  one  desire  in  this 
woman's  soul,  that  no  food  could  satisfy,  no  surfeit 
satiate.  She  could  neglect  her  children,  neglect  her  home, 
give  up  her  worldly  reputation  even,  so  that  she  could  but 
purchase  that  which  was  a  thousand  times  dearer  to  her 
than  all  —  the  admiration  of  men,  and  the  world's  ac- 
knowledgment of  such  admiration. 

To  win  this,  yes,  even  in  any  one  individual  case  upon 
which  she  had  set  her  mind,  she  could  be  patient  for 
weeks,  or  months,  or  years ;  could  make  a  thousand  pain- 
ful and  unworthy  sacrifices,  could  bear  with  indifference 
or  rebuff  or  insult.  The  notes  which  Arthur  Peel's  sense 
of  honor  had  allowed  him  to  shovV"  Jane  Dashwood,  were 
but  one  sample  of  the  hundred  insidious  modes  of  attack 
that  Mrs.  Strangways  could  bring  to  bear  upon  the  object 
that,  for  the  time  being,  she  had  in  view.  She  was  too 
indolent,  possibly  too  really  weak,  for  the  commonest 
exertions  of  life  to  which  her  master  passion  did  not  lend 
an  interest.  If  she  got  up  to  breakfast  when  she  was 
living  at  home  it  made  her  faint :  attempting  to  teach 
one  of  her  children  his  letters  was  an  actual  torture 
to  her  nerves ;  to  take  the  commonest  care  of  a  house- 
hold of  three  servants  was  a  superhuman  exertion  .  to 
her.  But  she  could  go  to  five  balls  a  week ;  could 
travel,  without  halt,  from  London  to  Vienna ;  could  go 
through  labyrinths  of  small  intrigues,  whose  details  were 
all  tedious  and  laborious  in  the  extreme,  when  she  had 
an  object  to  encompass.  The  same  spirit  —  unflinching, 
unresting,  unscrupulous  —  that  lay  in  her  fragile  body 
would  have  made  a  first-rate  general,  a  first-rate  states 
man,  a  first-rate  head  of  the  Society  of  Jesus.  Mrs. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  193 

Strangways  being  only  a  woman,  and  a  pretty  woman, 
her  peculiar  genius  had  narrower  scope  for  action.  But 
genius  it  was.  This  insatiate  passion  for  love  —  it  is 
neither  passion,  nor  love  itself;  it  goes  with  a  tempera- 
ment never  made  by  nature  to  experience  either  —  has 
been,  I  suspect,  the  real  motive-power  which  has  made 
the  great  majority  of  celebrated  women  celebrated.  The 
cold  white  hand  under  whose  sway  England  rose  to  her 
greatest  glory  belonged,  you  must  remember,  to  just  such 
a  woman  as  Mrs.  Strangways.  If  she  had  been  a  queen, 
clo  you  think  she  would  not  have  won  the  hearts  of  her 
people,  and  have  chosen  the  popular  religion,  and  have 
carried  on  platonic  loves  with  half  her  court,  and  mur- 
dered any  younger  fairer  woman  who  chanced  to  stand 
in  her  way? 

It  is  on  the  focus  from  which  we  look  at  things,  moral 
as  well  as  physical,  that  their  magnitude  depends.  As  a 
queen  Mrs.  Strangways  might  have  been  as  good  and 
great  as  Elizabeth.  Bound  down  by  fortune,  forced  to 
be  content  with  the  admiration  of  dozens  and  not 
thousands,  to  intrigue  for  the  regard  of  a  court  made  up 
of  men  like  Authur  Peel,  to  stab  her  rivals  by  words  not 
by  the  dagger,  she  was  only  a  miserable,  disappointed 
woman.  Already,  after  a  reign  of  just  a  dozen  years,  her 
courtiers  were  beginning  to  grow  slack  in  their  devotion  ; 
her  rivals,  bitterer  test !  to  fear  her  hatred  less.  Already 
she  was  obliged  to  stoop  to  humiliating  concessions,  such 
as  making  Jane  Dash  wood  her  companion,  unless  she 
would  lose  every  satellite  who  used  to  do  homage  round 
her  throne.  The  ambition  which  would  have  made  a 
queen  great ;  the  fixed,  unshrinking  purpose  which  would 
have  carried  a  man  on  to  the  attainment  of  any  of  the 
honest  desires  of  life,—-  had  brought  her  to  two-and-thirty, 
scarce  beyond  her  youth,  and  stranded  her  there,  without 
any  other  view  of  the  future  than  this  certainty  —  that 
9 


194  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

every  year  should  bear  her  more  hopelessly  away  from  the 
empire  which  it  had  been  the  struggle  of  all  these  years  of 
alternate  victory  and  defeat  to  win ! 

Mrs.  Strangways  had  married  early,  and  the  first  two  or 
three  years  of  her  married  life  had  been  passed  in  Paris, 
where  her  husband  then  held  some  small  office  about  the 
embassy.  A  great  many  people  held  those  two  or  three 
years  responsible  for  all  the  errors  of  her  subsequent 
career.  She  had  learnt  French  morality,  they  said,  during 
her  Parisian  experiences :  this  is  what  comes  of  spending 
one's  youth  among  the  wickednesses  of  a  foreign  capital. 

Others,  wider  in  their  views,  held  that  a  nature  so 
thoroughly  vain  and  unscrupulous  would  have  ripened 
into  much  the  same  maturity  wherever  she  had  lived ; 
indeed  (and,  whatever  the  theory,  this  was  true,)  that 
Mrs.  Strangways  did  care  more  for  her  children  and  her 
home  in  her  extreme  youth  than  she  ever  cared  again 
for  either  in  England.  Whether  her  passionate  thirst  for 
admiration  was  inborn,  or  partially  grafted  on  her  nature 
by  the  examples  of  wedded  life  that  she  saw  in  French 
society,  she  was,  undeniably,  at  her  present  age  as  perfect 
in  the  science  of  pleasing,  as  finished  in  every  seductive 
grace  that  art  can  give,  as  any  velvet-eyed  Frenchwoman, 
de  trente  ans,  who  ever  drew  breath.  As  perfect ;  but 
very  far  from  as  happy. 

A  Frenchwoman  lives  and  moves  and  has  her  being 
avowedly  only  for  successes  of  society.  It  is  an  institu- 
tion of  her  country  that  she  should  remain  at  home  the 
two  or  three  first  years  after  her  marriage,  then  commit 
her  son  and  daughter  to  the  care  of  their  grandmother 
or  governess,  and  betake  herself  to  her  vie  de  jolie  femme 
in  earnest.  She  is  adored  till  she  is  thirty  ;  after  thirty, 
she  adores.  The  two  phases  of  adoration  divide  the 
twenty  best  years  of  her  existence  pretty  equally  ;  and  at 
forty  she  sinks  quietly  into  a  dressing-gown  and  devotion 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        195 

for  the  rest  of  her  life.  Circumstances,  not  any  extraordi- 
nary bias  of  her  own  nature,  make  her  what  she  is,  and 
French  society  recognises  in  her  simply  the  brilliant  spoilt 
child  of  its  own  creation.  Her  family,  including  the  hus- 
band, regard  her  as  a  model-wife  and  mother  of  a  family, 
and  a  touching  epitaph  shall  one  day  be  suspended  above 
her  grave  in  Pere  la  Chaise,  recording  all  the  angelic  do- 
mestic virtues  and  affections  of  which  she  was  so  fair  an 
example  when  on  earth. 

But  Mrs.  Strangways  was  an  Englishwoman.  Not  the 
usages  of  conventional  life,  but  her  own  innate  tenden- 
cies, joined  to  the  empire  with  which  beauty  of  no  com- 
mon order  had  endowed  her,  conspired  to  make  her  what 
she  was.  Every  hour  of  triumph  she  enjoyed  she  had  to 
purchase  by  hours  of  humiliation  ;  every  night  of  intoxi- 
cating success  by  days  and  weeks  of  bitterest  mortification. 
All  the  homage  she  received  from  one  sex  was  made 
good  to  her  in  worse  than  positive  neglect  or  insolence 
from  the  other.  She  struggled  against  all  this  bravely. 
When  everybody  so  nearly  cut  her  after  that  last  Viennese 
expedition  alluded  to  by  Mrs.  Tudor,  she  gave  an  im- 
mense fancy  ball  and  sent  invitations  to  people  who  had 
passed  her  without  recognition  the  very  same  day,  and 
bore  up  against  dozens  of  refusals,  and  looked  handsomer 
and  brighter  than  ever  when  the  evening  of  her  ball 
came,  and  finally  fought  her  way  back  to  the  position 
she  had  so  nearly  lost  by  her  own  unaided  pluck  and  de- 
termination of  not  allowing  her  enemies  to  cast  her 
down. 

But  do  you  think  there  was  so  little  of  humanity  in 
this  woman's  heart  that  she  did  not  feel  every  indignity 
-  yes,  every  small  stab,  every  ingenious  little  cruelty, 
that  was  put  upon  her  at  that  fancy  ball  ?  Do  you  think 
Mrs.  Strangways,  or  any  other  woman,  ever  fought  long 
against  the  united  hosts  of  her  own  sex  without  thou- 


196  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

sands  of  pointed  shafts  rankling,  however  hid  away,  with- 
in her  breast  ?  Mrs.  Strangways  endured  it :  she  could 
have  endured  more,  sooner  than  give  up  the  one  passion 
which  was  the  very  breath  of  her  life  :  but  she  felt  every 
cold  look,  every  supercilious  bow,  to  the  full  as  sharply 
now  as  she  had  done  when  she  first  began  to  receive 
them  a  dozen  weary  years  ago.  More  sharply,  probably; 
she  had  youth  and  the  feelings  of  youthful  beauty  to  the 
fore,  then  ;  she  who  had  so  many  slaves  among  men  could 
easily  bear  the  want  of  a  few  friends  among  women. 
But  now  when  she  began  to  see  men's  eyes  following 
younger  faces  than  hers  abroad,  when  she  began  to  have 
more  frequent  and  less  occupied  hours  at  home,  her  tired 
heart  dwelt  with  bitterer  emphasis  than  ever  upon  every 
look  or  word  of  slight  that  she  endured,  while  still  the 
desperation  ofwraning  power  made  her  more  resolutely 
loath  to  accept  the  lot  by  which  alone  her  peace  with 
her  own  sex  could  have  been  sealed  —  oblivion. 

Mrs.  Tudor,  bordering  on  fourscore  years  (sixty  of 
which,  at  least,  had  been  spent  in  frivolity)  —  Mrs.  Tu- 
dor, whose  own  youthful  follies  were  probably  still  re- 
membered by  herself,  although  buried  away  from  every 
one  else  beneath  the  accumulated  dust  of  half  a  century 
—  Mrs.  Tudor  thought  it  right  to  find  out,  precisely,  who 
was  visiting  Mrs.  Strangways  before  returning  the  call 
which  she  paid  to  herself  and  Esther,  two  days  after  their 
meeting  in  the  railway  carriage  on  their  return  from  Wey- 
mouth. 

"  We  owe  these  things  to  ourselves  and  to  society, 
child,"  she  remarked,  virtuously,  to  Esther.  "  It  is  not 
what  Mrs.  Strangways  does  that  it  concerns  us  to  pry 
into;  indeed,  our  charity  as  Christians  demands  that  we 
should  not  be  over-scrupulous  as  to  each  other's  personal 
and  hidden  failings.  If  a  certain  class  of  people  still  visit 
Mrs.  Strangways,  we  will  return  her  call  this  afternoon ; 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  197 

if  not,  I  will  leave  a  card  upon  her  in  the  course  of  the 
week;  and  our  manner  when  we  meet  her  next  can  show 
that  we  don't  desire  any  continuance  of  her  acquaint- 
ance." 

And  Miss  Whitty,  who  usually  performed  any  little 
dirty  work  of  the  kind  for  Mrs.  Tudor,  was  sent  off  at 
once  to  ascertain,  through  such  underhand  domestic  chan- 
nels as  her  abilities  could  suggest,  what  families  of  con- 
sideration in  Bath  still  continued  to  invite  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways  to  their  houses. 

The  result  was  satisfactory  alike  to  Mrs.  Strangways' 
repute  and  to  Mrs.  Tudor's  nice  moral  sense. 

"  The  Davenports  and  the  Wardlaws,  mini ;  and  since 
her  fancy  ball,  Dean  Oxenham's  family,  and  I  can't  tell 
you  how  many  besides.  A  good  many  people  were  giv- 
ing her  the  cold  shoulder  after  all  the  odd  stories  that 
were  afloat  upon  her  return  from  Germany ;  but  what 
with  her  great  ball,  and  her  constant  tea  dansangs,  and 
one  thing  and  another,  she's  quite  up  again  in  public  es- 
teem. Most  surprising,  really,  Miss  Fleming,  how  some 
people  can  do  everything,  and  yet  be  visited.  I  can  as- 
sure you,  the  stories  about  her  last  spring " 

"  Miss  Whitty,  I  must  beg  of  you  not  to  repeat  anything 
disparaging  of  Mrs.  Strangways  to  my  niece,"  interrupt- 
ed Mrs.  Tudor,  the  whole  of  whose  scruples  had  received 
their  quietus  at  the  mention  of  Dean  Oxenham's  name. 
"  These  scandals  are  not  in  any  way  improving  for  young 
people  to  hear,  and  it  would  be  much  more  becoming  in 
you,  at  your  age,  to  refrain  from  trying  to  injure  the  rep- 
utation of  others." 

"  But  as  we  were  talking  about  it  this  morning,  mini,  I 
thought " 

"  If  you  were  talking  about  any  subject  this  morning, 
it  is  quite  sufficient  reason  for  your  not  talking  about  it 
this  afternoon.  Miss  Whitty.  At  all  events  I  must  beg 


198  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

of  you  not  to  repeat  any  idle  Bath  gossip  to  my  niece, 
in  my  presence." 

Miss  Whitty  looked  duly  guilty  for  having  presumed 
to  think  lightly  of  any  one  who  was  visited  by  the  Dav- 
enports, and  the  Wardlaws,  and  (since  her  fancy  ball)  by 
Dean  Oxenham's  wife  and  daughters;  and  Mrs.  Tudor 
and  Esther,  in  another  hour,  were  receiving  very  sweet 
smiles  from  Mrs.  Strangways  herself,  in  the  rose-colored 
light  of  that  calumniated  lady's  own  drawing-room. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A   SERIOUS   BKINGING-TJP. 

A  GOOD  deal  of  a  certain  kind  of  gaiety  might  soon 
have  fallen  into  Esther's  way  had  she  chosen  to  make 
the  most  of  it.  One  dinner,  one  "At  Home,"  and  one 
card  party  were,  however,  quite  enough  to  convince  her 
that  the  dissipations  that  suited  Mrs.  Tudor  at  threescore 
years  and  ten,  were  by  no  means  seductive  to  herself  at 
eighteen ;  and  with  very  sincere  goodwill  she  begged  for 
the  future  to  be  left  out  of  all  entertainments  in  which 
the  amusements  of  people  of  her  own  age  were  not  the 
primary  matter  of  consideration. 

Mrs.  Tudor  was  not  likely  to  dispute  a  point  which 
promised  to  save  herself  the  purchasing  of  white  kid 
gloves  and  evening  dresses  for  Esther.  She  thought  her 
dear  niece  showed  a  very  praiseworthy  principle  in  not 
wishing  to  acquire  that  taste  for  society  which  must  so 
inevitably  unfit  her  for  her  quiet  life  at  home.  She  would 
wish  her  dear  niece  in  this,  as  in  everything  else,  to  con- 
sult her  own  feelings  as  long  as  she  remained  her  guest ; 
and  her  dear  niece  soon  found  that  she  would  have  five 
or  six  evenings  in  every  week  very  much,  indeed,  at  her 
own  disposal. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  199 

The  consequence  of  this  freedom  to  Esther  was  a  great 
and  growing  intimacy  with  Jane  Dashwood.  Milly  made 
profession  still  of  the  deepest  regard  for  her  old  school 
friend ;  but  the  elements  of  real  affection  for  anything  or 
person  beyond  herself  were  quite  rudimentary  in  poor  lit- 
tle Milly's  shallow  nature.  She  had  liked  Esther  at  school, 
as  she  candidly  avowed,  because  Esther  wrote  her  exer- 
cises, and  mended  her  stockings  for  her.  She  liked  her 
now  because  she  was  a  complacent  listener  to  narrations 
of  successes,  and  also  —  in  Millicent's  opinion  —  not  good- 
looking  enough  ever  to  stand,  at  any  time,  in  one'?  own 
way.  But  Jane,  who  with  all  her  faults  could  love,  had 
taken  a  real  liking  to  the  repose  of  Esther's  face  and  na- 
ture from  the  first  day  on  which  they  ever  saw  each  other 
in  the  train.  Possibly  like  Milly,  she,  too,  imagined  Miss 
Fleming  to  be  one  who  would  never  rival  her  in  the  clos- 
est interests  of  her  life  ;  but  she  saw,  too,  in  her  a  strong 
calm  character,  wholly  opposed  to  her  own  feverish  and 
fitful  one,  an  original  fresh  way  of  thinking  widely  differ- 
ent to  the  hackneyed  flippancy  or  assumed  reserve  of  the 
young  women  she  had  hitherto  dignified  by  the  name  of 
friends.  Esther  was  the  only  person  of  her  own  sex,  ex- 
cept her  sister,  with  whom  she  had  ever  felt  anything  like 
real  interest  in  talking ;  and  then  Esther  did  not  admire 
Arthur  Peel,  and  Arthur  Peel  only  thought  Esther  a  fine- 
looking  girl,  not  at  all  in  his  style.  It  was  on  the  occas- 
ion when  he  had  expressly  stated  his  final  decision  on  this 
important  subject,  that  poor  Jane  first  carne,  self-inviled, 
to  spend  the  evening  with  Esther,  and  ask  her  to  allow 
her,  Jane  Dashwood,  to  be  her  friend  for  life. 

Esther's  temperament  was  not  one  that  urged  her  on 
into  sudden  and  violent  young-lady  friendship  under  or- 
dinary circumstances ;  but  still  Jane  Dashwood's  com- 
panionship was  welcome  to  her.  It  was  difficult  to  write 
to  Oliver,  or  even  to  think  of  him,  during  all  the  hours 


200  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

in  which  Mrs.  Tudor  left  her  alone.  To  her  who  had  seen 
so  little  of  life  there  was  infinite  zest  in  all  Miss  Dash- 
wood's  savoir  vivre  and  stories  of  her  own  conquests, 
and  triumphs,  and  regrets.  It  was  not  unamnsing  to  hear 
Jane  talk  of  Paul.  He  was  the  last  man,  Esther  assured 
herself,  for  whom,  even  if  disengaged,  she  could  entertain 
any  other  feeling  than  curiosity;  but  still  it  was  not  un- 
interesting, in  default  of  better  matter,  to  have  his  char- 
acter set  forth  in  Jane's  lively  way,  and  from  the  Dash- 
wood  point  of  view. 

With  such  mutual  sources  of  interest,  confidence  could 
scarcely  fail  of  proceeding  rapidly  between  two  young 
women  of  the  respective  ages  of  eighteen  and  twenty- 
one.  At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  Esther  knew  every  one 
of  the  antecedents  of  Jane's  life,  except  such  portions  of 

it  as  belonged  to  Arthur  Peel ;  and  Jane  had   received 

c>  ' 

every  confidence  Esther  had  to  give,  except  the  recountal 
of  those  few  short  weeks  that  had  been  the  exclusive 
property  of  Mr.  Carew. 

"I  am  quite  glad  to  see  Jane  becoming  intimate  with 
you,  Miss  Fleming,"  Mrs.  Dashwood  observed  to  Esther 
the  second  time  she  saw  her.  "It  would  be  something 
new  to  me  to  see  either  of  Colonel  Dash  wood's  da-ughters 
caring  for  anything  more  vital  than  dress,  and  vanity, 
and  balls.  If  you  find  that  you  acquire  the  slightest  in- 
fluence over  poor  Jane,  may  I  —  may  I  ask  you,  as  a 
duty  you  owe  to  yourself  and  her,  too,  to  try  and  turn  it 
to  a  serious  account  ?  " 

Esther  answered,  as  civility  demanded,  that  she  would 
be  very  glad  indeed  to  do  anything  to  serve  Mrs.  Dash- 
wood  ;  but  she  had  already  obtained  sufficient  insight  in- 
to Jane's  temper  to  know  that  whatever  influence  was  to 
be  gained  over  her  must  be  an  indirect  one.  She  might 
be  swayed  by  example  or  by  love ;  the  kind  of  war  of  ex- 
termination that  her  stepmother  had  carried  on  against 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        201 

her,  ever  since  she  was  seven  years  old,  was,  Esther  felt, 
the  precise  means  of  making  poor  Jane's  heart  stand  firm- 
est rooted  in  its  own  rebellion. 

Mrs.  Dash  wood  was  a  woman  of  undeniably  good  in- 
tentions. She  held  firm  views  as  to  her  own  perfectly 
elect  state  of  mind  and  excellent  future  prospects  in  anoth- 
er world,  and  really  did  her  best  to  convince  the  people 
she  lived  with  of  their  errors.  Esther's  ignorance  of  theo- 
logical matters  prevented  her  from  discerning  whether 
Mrs.  Dashwood's  views  were  high,  or  low,  Calvinistic,  or 
Tractarian,  or  broad.  Whatever  may  have  been  her  doc 
trines,  however,  she  held  them  to  the  extreme,  and  made 
her  family  duly  miserable  by  their  propagation.  For,  in 
addition  to  her  views,  Colonel  Dashwood's  wife  had  nerves. 
Views  and  nerves  both  in  the  same  woman  !  When  she 
got  worsted  in  her  frequent  theological  and  moral  argu- 
ments with  Jane,  she  had  nerves  to  fall  back  upon  at  the 
crowning-point  of  her  defeat.  When  Colonel  Dashwood 
offended  her  by  his  worldliness,  in  any  shape  that  involv- 
ed neglect  of  herself,  she  could,  at  the  very  shortest  no- 
tice, attire  herself,  metaphorically  in  her  grave-clothes, 
and  propose  to  meet  her  end.  Every  man  —  whatever, 
in  the  bracing  atmosphere  of  masculine  confidence,  he 
may  assert  to  the  contrary  —  every  man  that  breathes  is 
utterly  subjugated  and  powerless  when  his  wife  makes 
preparations  for  death.  If  he  struggles,  he  is  made  to  feel 
himself  a  brute,  and  has  to  give  in  in  the  end  :  if  he  does 
not  struggle,  he  is  made  equally  to  feel  himself  a  brute, 
and  has  to  give  in  at  the  onset.  Her  step-daughters  were 
sufficiently  out  of  the  reach  of  her  immediate  and  person- 
al power  to  bear  a  great  many  of  Mrs.  Dashwood's  death- 
throes  with  fortitude  ;  but  long  experience  had  taught  her 
husband  that  his  wisest  course  lay  in  prostrate  and  abject 
submission,  and  it  was  quite  beautiful,  when  he  was  asked 
to  a  whist  party  or  a  club  dinner,  to  hear  the  conditional 
9* 


202  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

acceptance  "  depending  on  poor  Mrs.  Dash  wood's  wretch- 
ed state  of  health ; "  that  was  all  the  meek,  submissive 
old  Colonel  dared  to  give. 

And  yet  the  meek,  submissive  old  Colonel  was  far  from 
miserable  in  his  thraldom.  Years  had  accustomed  him 
even  to  Mrs.  Dashwood  ;  and  some  of  his  more  intimate 
friends,  including  his  own  children,  went  so  far  as  to  say 
that  there  was  a  point  of  view  from  which  the  austerity 
of  his  wife's  views,  and  the  feebleness  of  her  health,  were 
by  no  means  distasteful  to  Colonel  Dashwood.  They  sav- 
ed him  from  the  expense  of  entertaining;  and  to  be  sav- 
ed expenditure  in  any  shape  was  what  Colonel  Dashwood 
lived  for.  When  he  summed  up  in  his  mind  the  dinner- 
parties, the  balls,  the  theatre  tickets  from  which  Mrs. 
Dashwood's  views  saved  him,  I  can  really  quite  believe 
that  the  calculation  served  to  reconcile  him  to  a  great 
many  of  the  intestinal  broils  and  personal  bullyings  that 
were  his  everyday  food.  The  girls  had  to  be  married  of 
course:,  indeed,  Colonel  Dashwood's  view  of  daughters 
went  no  farther  than  the  primary  expense  of  their  dress, 
and  his  own  ultimate  hopes  of  making  over  this  ex- 
pense into  the  hands  of  another  man ;  and  with  a  woman 
fond  of  them,  and  of  the  things  they  liked,  a  woman  such 
as  their  mother  might  have  been  had  she  lived,  what  would 
not  have  been  required  of  him  in  costly  entertainments 
every  winter  ?  If  you  set  up  for  ball-giving  at  all,  you 
must,  according  to  all  the  laws  of  watering-place  civiliza- 

/  O  C>      L 

tion,  give  two  large  balls  a  year.  The  supper  for  a  ball 
costs  so  much;  item,  waiters ;  item,  musicians ;  the  mu- 
scians  alone  sufficient  to  buy  his  fish  in  the  Bath  market 
for  a  twelvemonth:  and  then  come  smaller  parties,  and 
impromptu  teas,  and  dinners,  and  all  the  reckless  expendi- 
tures that  women  abandon  themselves  to,  when  once  you 
give  them  their  head  at  all.  When  Colonel  Dashwood 
pondered  over  these  things,  and  saw  that  his  daughters 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         203 

managed  to  be  invited  out  and  admired  merely  on  the 
strength  of  their  own  good  looks,  and  one  inexpensive, 
semi-polemical  "  At  Home "  a  year  —  I  repeat  it,  I  can 
quite  believe  he  felt  duly  thankful  for  the  nerves  and 
views,  and  blessed  saving  of  money  generally,  that  the 
second  Mrs.  Dash  wood,  together  with  her  nice  little  for- 
tune of  so  many  thousand  pounds,  had  brought  to  him. 

But  Jane  and  Milly  saw  in  their  father's  ready  submis- 
sion to  his  wife's  wishes  only  another  cause  of  righteous 
detestation  to  their  stepmother,  another  element  of  dis- 
cord in  their  loveless,  disunited  home.  All  the  practical 
efforts  of  Mrs.  Dash  wood's  religion,  were,  as  far  as  they 
were  concerned,  deprivation  of  the  things  they  cared  for. 
All  Colonel  Dashwood's  philanthropy  (and  he  was  very 
philanthropical  —  took  chairs  at  meetings,  and  made  long 
twaddling  speeches  after  the  manner  of  his  kind)  was 
put  off,  his  children  said,  on  the  threshold  of  his  own 
house,  and  never  extended  to  them.  As  Esther  got  to 
know  more  of  their  own  home  and  of  their  training,  she 
wondered  less  and  less  at  the  scanty  affection  bestowed  by 
the  Dashwood  girls  upon  the  members  of  their  own  fam- 
ily, and  at  the  cool  and  systematic  deceit  existing  between 
every  one  of  the  entire  household  towards  the  rest. 
Upon  Milly,  faulty  though  she  was,  her  bringing  up  had 
exercised  a  less  powerful  influence  for  bad  than  upon 
Jane.  Millicent  Dashwood's,  like  her  father's,  was  a  tem- 
perament precisely  fitted  for  extracting  the  greatest  pos- 
sible amount  of  personal  gratification,  and  the  very  small- 
est of  personal  suffering,  out  of  any  position  of  life,  in 
which  she  might  find  herself  placed.  Her  loves,  her 
sympathies,  her  dislikes,  were  all  of  the  same  moderate 
and  prudent  temperature.  You  could  just  look  onward 
twenty  or  thirty  years,  and  imagine  her  then  as  Colonel 
Dashwood  was  at  present ;  performing  all  expedient  du- 
ties well,  and  digesting  her  dinner,  and  living  within  her 


204  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

income,  and  caring  very  little  for  anything  beyond  her 
own  ease  and  being  very  well  thought  of  by  the  world  at 
large. 

Was  she  upright?  was  she  conscientious  ?  ~No  one  liv 
ing — -.no,  not  herself — ever  knew  as  much  as  that  of 
Millicent  Dashwood.  Common  sense  and  thorough  self- 
ishness and  a  cool  temperament  kept  her  —  as  they  keep 
hundreds  like  her  —  from  ever  infringing  any  law,  the  in- 
fringment  of  which  should  entail  penalty  on  herself.  She 
simply  did  not  know  the  meaning  of  refined  or  fierce 
temptation,  and  consequently  it  was  impossible  for  her  to 
be  tempted  beyond  her  power  of  resistance.  Jane's  sen- 
sitive organization  and  utter  deficiency  of  moral  strength 
made  her  whole  life  a  series  of  struggles  and  failures;  of 
struggles  against  conditions  and  temptations  too  strong 
for  her ;  of  surrenders  to  things  which,  even  while  they 
conquered  her,  she  had  enough  nobility  of  soul  to  revolt 
from  and  despise.  And  Milly,  like  the  true  little  Pharisee 
that  she  was,  already  indulged  in  much  secret  thankful- 
ness to  Providence  that  she  was  not  as  poor  dear  Jenny 
in  her  frequent  short-comings,  and  spasmodic  endeavors 
after  impossible  perfection. 

The  fact  was,  no  real  moral  discipline  in  childhood  had 
fitted  Jane  Dashwood  either  for  the  temptations  or  the 
weariness  of  ordinary  human  life.  Mrs.  Dash  wood,  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  traditions  of  her  class,  had  early  talked 
a  great  deal  to  her  step-daughters  about  their  sins,  and 
spiritual  helplessness,  and  need  of  repentance  and  forgive- 
ness ;  and  Millicent,  by  the  time  she  was  eight  years  old, 
had  improved  so  much  upon  her  instructions  as  to  be  able 
to  mourn,  in  the  orthodox,  casuistic  argot,  over  all  the 
iniquities  of  her  childish  days,  and  obtain  little  prizes  of 
tracts  and  picture  cards  as  a  recompense  for  the  sensitive- 
ness of  her  conscience.  But  Jane  could  not  play  fast  and 
lose  with  her  own  soul,  even  then.  She  could  no  more 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  205 

lament  over  unfelt  sins  than  she  could  steal  the  almonds 
and  raisins  from  the  sideboard,  and  go  to  sleep  half  an 
hour  afterwards  unhaunted  by  remorse,  like  Milly.  What- 
ever she  felt  was  real :  and  so,  as  she  faithfully  believed 
all  that  she  was  told  in  such  matters,  her  conscience  be- 
came really  excited  into  precocious  and  unnatural  sensitive- 
ness. She  thought  herself  fallen  and  lost,  and  she  preferred 
despairing  hymns  to  story  books,  and  she  heard  mysteri- 
ous calls  and  voices,  and  sustained  raptures  and  trances. 

"  And  so  I  got  used  up  in  religious  feeling,  as  I  am  now 
in  everything  else,"  she  said  to  Esther,  once.  "I  do 
things  that  I  ought  to  repent  for,  as  I  repented  then,  and 
I  can't.  All  the  straining  after  repentance  before  I  really 
knew  what  wrong  was  seems  to  have  exhausted  my  re- 
penting powers  for  life." 

She  was  mistaken  in  this,  as  her  constant  fits  of  self- 
upbraiding  proved.  Her  temperament  was  too  acute  a 
one  for  even  Mrs.  Dash  wood's  training  to  have  wholly 
deadened  its  capacities  for  suffering.  But  her  repentan- 
ces were  still  merely  emotional,  like  those  she  had  played 
at  when  she  was  a  child :  passionate  revulsions  of  feeling 
bearing  no  fruit  whatsoever  beyond  present  tears  and 
speedy  longings  after  renewed  and  stronger  excitement. 

Esther  Fleming  was  the  first  person  she  had  known  in 
whom  her  feverish  unsettled  spirit  could  find  anything 
like  repose.  Esther  was  so  little  excitable,  so  strong,  so 
rarely  moved  !  Everything  she  said  and  felt  was  so  real, 
so  unlike  the  sentiments  developed  in  the  Dashwood 
atmosphere.  Religion  with  her  had  been,  as  a  little  child, 
to  learn  her  lessons,  to  weed  the  garden,  to  mend  her 
clothes,  to  go  to  church,  to  obey.  Miss  Joan  abhorred 
questioning  children  about"  their  feelings ;  "  fostering 
their  vanity,  and  training  them  to  be  hypocrites,  as 
though  that  won't  come  fast  enough  without  any  assis- 
tance of  ours."  She  held  that  the  only  way  to  train  them 


206  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

was  to  bring  them  up  in  stern  obedience  to  all  natural  law, 
moral  and  physical,  to  make  them  temperate,  enduring, 
self-reliant,  strong ;  and  trust  to  their  early-instilled  un- 
reasoning reverence  for  church  and  Sunday,  and  their 
Bibles,  to  keep  them  right  in  theology.  And  probably 
her  theory  was  as  right  as  any  theory  of  education  ever 
can  be  ;  Esther's  nature,  at  all  events,  had  not  developed 
badly  under  it. 

"  You  would  be  better  if  you  thought  less  about  yourself 
altogether,  Jane,"  she  would  answer  when  Miss  Dash- 
wood  had  been  mourning  over  the  decay  of  her  repenting 
powers.  "  I  am  not  at  all  sure  you  don't  at  heart  like  the 
sensation  of  being  wicked.  Self-analyzation,  as  you  call 
it,  may  be  a  very  fine  and  useful  exercise,  but  I  can't  help 
thinking  that  if  you  would  just  give  up  flirting  with 
Arthur  Peel,  and  not  seek  so  many  occasions  of  falling, 
it  would  be  more  to  the  purpose." 

Esther  did  not  know  then  how  near  poor  Jane's  heart 
her  foolish  passion  lay.  When  she  found  what  the  girl's 
love  for  Arthur  Peel  really  was,  she  could  never  bring  her 
lips  to  say  anything  harsh  or  strong-minded  upon  the 
subject  again. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

FIFTY    THOUSAND    POUNDS. 

ONE  morning  early,  Miss  Dashwood  came  round  alone 
to  ask  Esther  to  walk  with  her.  Milly  had  gone  to  spend 
the  day  with  some  friends  of  her  own,  and  Jane  felt  a 
strong  inclination  for  a  quiet  country  walk ;  besides,  she 
added,  she  had  something  very  particular  indeed,  that  she 
wished  to  talk  to  Miss  Fleming  about ;  something  con- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  207 

cerning  which  she  desired  especially  to  ask  Miss  Fleming's 
opinion. 

"  You  must  give  me  yours  on  something  equally  impor- 
tant to  me,"  said  Esther.  "  I  have  had  an  invitation  this 
morning  to  a  party  at  Mrs.  Strangways  for  next  Thursday, 
and  Aunt  Thalia  and  I  cannot  decide  whether  I  shall  ac- 
cept it  or  not." 

"Paul  will  be  there,"  said  Jane,  laconically.  "I  had  a 
note  from  him  this  morning,  to  say  that  he  will  return  to 
Bath  next  week." 

"  And  is  Mr.  Chichester  sure  to  be  at  any  party  given 
by  Mrs.  Strangways,  Jane  ?  " 

"Quite  certain,  Esther — under  some  circumstances. 
There  will  be  people  at  Mrs.  Strangways'  house  on  Thurs- 
day whom  Mr.  Chichester  cares  to  meet." 

"  I  am  sure  everybody  seems  to  be  taking  up  with  Mrs. 
Strangways  now,"  cried  Miss  Whitty,  who  was  busily 
disrobing  Mrs.  Tudor's  chandeliers  for  an  approaching 
tea-party.  "  Whom  do  you  think  I  saw  with  her  this 
morning,  Miss  Dash  wood  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  answered  Jane,  turning 
sharply  away. 

"  Why,  Miss  Lynes  —  the  Miss  Lynes  —  the  heiress,  and 
Mrs.  Strangways,  and  Mr.  Peel  was  with  them,  on  horse- 
back. I  was  coming  back  from  my  little  early  walk  on 
the  common,  and  I  knew  who  it  was  directly,  though  I've 
not  been  introduced.  Miss  Lynes's  face  is  so  familiar  to 
me  from  her  likeness  to  her  uncle,  Sir  Samuel  Lynes, 
whom  I've  played  with  scores  and  scores  of  times  when  I 
was  a  child."  (It  was  a  peculiarity  of  Miss  Whitty's  to 
have  played  with  everybody  when  she  was  a  child : 
knights,  baronets,  poets-laureate,  generals,  dukes  ;  nothing 
short  of  royalty  stopped  her.)  "  And  most  surprised  I 
was,  dearest  Mrs.  Tudor,  I  can  assure  you,  to  see  Sir 
Samuel's  niece  in  such  company." 


208  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Then  your  surprise  was  very  ill-placed,  Miss  Whitty," 
replied  Mrs.  Tudor.  "  A  clothier's  niece  — " 

"  Oh,  dear  mini !  an  army  agent's  —  " 

"An  army  agent's,  a  clothier's,  a  tailor's  niece, like  Miss 
Lynes,  may  be  well  content  that  her  fifty  thousand  pounds 
have  brought  her  at  all  into  the  society  of  gentlemen  and 
ladies.  Mr.  Peel  means  to  marry  the  young  woman,  I 
hear,  and,  considering  the  family  of  ruined  spendthrifts  he 
belongs  to,  'tis  about  the  best  thing  for  him  to  do." 

Esther  saw  that  Miss  Dashwood  writhed  visibly  under 
Mrs.  Tudor's  last  words,  and  began  to  talk  of  other  things 
as  soon  as  they  left  the  house ;  but  Jane,  of  her  own  will, 
recurred  at  once  to  the  theme  of  Arthur  Peel  and  Miss 
Lynes. 

"  Your  aunt  is  right,  Esther ;  all  the  town  is  mention- 
ing their  names  together.  I  know,  of  course,  that  there 
is  nothing  in  it ;  how  can  there  be  ?  the  very  idea  is 
preposterous ;  but  still  it  makes  me  sick  and  miserable 
even  to  hear  his  name  spoken  of  with  any  other  woman's. 
That's  what  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about.  We'll  not  walk 
in  the  town,  we'll  go  away  through  the  park  to  the  com- 
mon, where  we  shall  meet  nobody,  unless,  indeed,  we  are 
lucky  enough  to  fall  in  with  that  riding-party  Miss 
Whitty  told  us  of."  And  then  Jane  laughed  rather  bitter- 

iy- 

The  ordinary  Dashwood  idea  of  a  walk  consisted  in 
making  the  greatest  number  of  turns  that  were  possible, 
without  being  actually  notorious,  before  the  club-house, 
and  up  and  down  the  principal  gangways  of  Bath  ;  and 
Esther  felt  a  good  deal  relieved  that  for  once  they  were 
to  go  away  into  the  country  and  be  spared  the  manoeuv- 
ring which  walking  for  two  consecutive  hours  along  three 
streets  demands.  It  was  a  clear,  still  day  of  late  autumn  ; 
the  air  summer-like,  but  for  its  intense  stillness  and  fra- 
grance from  the  dying  woods  ;  the  coloring  on  the  sur- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        209 

rounding  amphitheatre  of  hills  full  of  those  tender  hues 
of  russet-gold  and  delicate  greys  which  render  some 
mornings  in  December  fairer  than  all  the  brightest  days 
of  May  or  June. 

"  Bath  is  a  beautiful  place,"  Esther  remarked  as  they 
turned  in  the  upper  park  to  look  back  across  the  town. 
"  If  I  was  condemned  to  live  in  any  city  all  my  life,  I 
think  I  would  choose  this." 

"  And  I  would  sooner  choose  any  other  in  the  inhabit- 
ed world,"  said  Miss  Dash  wood.  "  I  hate,  I  detest,  I 
loathe  Bath  —  Bath,  and  its  people  too." 

"The  people  you  have  spent  all  your  life  among, 
Jane?" 

"  The  people  I  have  spent  all  my  life  among,  Esther. 
Leaving  out  papa  and  Milly,  I  shouldn't  shed  a  tear  at  all 
the  people  I  know  in  Bath  being  swallowed  up  by  an 
earthquake  at  this  moment." 

"  The  riding  party  on  the  common  to  be  excepted,  of 
course." 

"Arthur  Peel  excepted  ;  the  other  two  might  share  the 
general  fate,  for  any  wish  of  mine  to  the  contrary.  Not 
that  either  of  them  have  injured  me,  or  have  it  in  their 
power  to  injure  me,"  she  added  quickly.  "  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways  detests  me,  but  as  to  poor  Miss  Lynes,  with  her 
great  fat  white  lymphatic  face,  I  shouldn't  think  it  was  in 
her  to  like  or  dislike  any  one  ;  and  I  ani'Sure  I  could  nev- 
er have  the  slightest  feeling  of  either  kind  towards  her." 

"And  are  you  sure  that  Mrs.  Strangways  does  detest 
you,  Jane  ?  She  is  always  wanting  you  to  be  with  her  ; 
she  is  dreadfully  affectionate  to  you  in  her  manner.  What 
can  you  have  ever  done  to  make  her  detest  you  as  you 
say  she  does?" 

"Not  any  one  particular  action,  perhaps.  It  is  not 
one  great  palpable  injury,  but  a  series  of  small  rivalries, 
that  make  dear  friends  like  Mrs.  Strangways  and  me  de- 


210  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

test  each  other.  I  am  a  dozen  years  younger  than  she  is 
—  men  ask  me  to  dance  oftener  than  they  do  her.  She 
can  look  back  upon  scores  of  times  when  my  vanity  has 
been  gratified  at  the  expense  of  hers.  Paul  Chichester, 
who  would  not  under  any  conditions  pay  her  attention, 
became  my  friend  the  first  day  he  saw  me.  Are  not  these 
sufficient  reasons  for  her  to  hate  me  ?  " 

"  And  yet  she  always  wishes  you  to  be  with  her." 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  has  got  to  the  point  where  rival  aid  has 
to  be  called  in.  A  humiliating  point  that,  Esther,  eh  ? 
I  wonder  when  I  am  thirty  whether  I  shall  be  what  Mrs. 
Strangways  is  now  ?  " 

u  God  forbid,  Jane,"  said  Esther.  "  I  hope  you  will  be 
happily  married,  and  caring  nothing  for  balls  and  parties 
long  before  then." 

u  Married  —  to  whom  ?  " 

Esther  hesitated.  Miss  Dashwood's  position  as  nomi- 
nally engaged  to  one  man,  and  unconditionally  in  love 
with  another,  made  the  question  a  rather  difficult  one  to 
answer. 

"  Married  to  whom  ? "  repeated  Jane.  "  Speak  out, 
Esther,  I  want  to  have  your  opinion." 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  married  to  a  man  you  can  respect, 
Jane.  You  would  never  be  happy  unless  you  did  respect 
him." 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  what  I  think  of  that  style  of  moral 
sentiment,  Esther  ?  I  think,  like  all  copy-book  things,  it 
means  nothing  whatever.  No  pretty  little  axioms  can  fit 
everybody;  good  and  bad,  passionate  and  phlegmatic, 
alike.  Respect  and  esteem  may  be  necessary  elements  to 
some  people's  love ;  they  are  not  to  mine.  I  can  love 
without  either." 

"I  spoke, of  happiness,  Jane." 

"And  love  is  happiness.  When  I  am  married  to  Arthur, 
I  shall  be  happy,  whatever  he  is,  whatever  he  has  been. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  211 

It  is  just  the  one  subject  in  which  reason  does  not  enter, 
you  see,  Miss  Fleming.  I  suppose  you  allow  that  ?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  think  I  know  much  about  very  passionate 
love,"  said  Esther ;  and  recollecting  her  numerous  re- 
markably cool  judgments  upon  the  defects  in  Oliver's 
character,  the  truth  was  borne  in  upon  her,  not  without  a 
sense  of  shame,  that  Jane's  attachment,  hopeless  and  mis- 
placed though  it  might  be,  had  yet  stronger  vitality,  more 
of  the  genuine  element  of  love  in  it  than  hers.  "I  don't 
think  I  know  much  about  passionate  love,  except  what  I 
have  heard,  and  read  in  books.  I  think,  now,  that  I  could 
always  reason,  whatever  I  might  feel." 

"  And  pray  to  Heaven  that  you  may  always  feel  so  ! " 
cried  Miss  Dash  wood.  "  Pray  that  you  may  never  love 
any  human  being  better  than  yourself ;  above  all,  that  you 
may  never  commit  the  desperate  folly  of  staking  your 
hopes  of  happiness  upon  the  miserable  chance  of  any 
man's  heart  being  as  stable  as  your  own." 

"  Have  you  done  that,  Jane  ?  " 

"  Have  I  not  done  it  ?  you  should  say.  Am  I  not  giv- 
ing up  the  best  years  of  my  life,  giving  up  all  other  pros- 
pects or  hopes ;  am  I  not  ready  to  sacrifice  everything  — 
my  own  soul  if  it  would  help  him  —  to  Arthur  Peel !  and 
how  does  he  return  it  all  ?  Don't  speak,  please,  don't 
say  anything ;  I  can  bear  to  say  these  things,  but  not  to 
hear  them  said.  Does  Arthur  really  love  me,  Esther  ?  He 
must  do  that ; "  she  turned  her  face,  white  and  excited, 
to  Esther:  "he  must  do  that,"  she  repeated  passionately. 
"  Men  are  not  like  women,  of  course  :  they  require  excite- 
ment, amusement,  a  thousand  things  that  look  like  infidel- 
ity, yet  are  not  really  so.  Arthur's  whole  life  is  spent  in 
committing  actions  that  make  me  miserable,  and  still,  at 
heart,  I  know  he  loves  nie.  Why,  just  think  how  long 
our  engagement  has  been  going  on  —  three  years !  It  makes 
me  old  to  think  of  it." 


212  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"Engagement!  I  never  knew  before  that  there  was  any 
thing  like  an  engagement  in  the  case,"  said  Esther,  with 
a  feeling  of  more  interest  in  Jane's  love  affairs  than  she 
had  ever  known  before.  "  Do  you  mean  me  to  think  that 
you  are  actually  engaged  to  be  married  to  Mr.  Peel  ?  " 
,  "  Well,  yes.  I  don't  see  the  good  of  making  any  more 
half-confidences.  In  our  way,  Arthur  and  I  are  engag- 
ed." 

"  Oh,  Jane  !  and  I  have  laughed  at  you  about  it,  and 
said  such  things  about  Mr.  Peel !  How  I  wish  you  had 
told  me  all  from  the  first ! " 

"  Never  mind,"  cried  Miss  Dashwood,  with  rather  a 
forced  laugh.  "  You  need  not  take  it  so  dreadfully  au 
serieux.  I  said  we  were  engaged  in  one  way,  and  our 
way  would  not  be  yours,  Esther.  I  amuse  myself  pretty 
well,  as  you  see,  in  this  odious  life  of  ours  at  Bath,  and  I 
dare  say  Arthur  pines  no  more  than  other  young  Guards- 
men pine  in  London.  Whatever  you  have  said  is  not 
half  so  bad  as  what  people  in  general  say  of  both  of  us." 

"But  people  in  general  don't  know  that  you  are  engag- 
ed to  each  other,  I  suppose." 

"  Not  now.  My  little  attentions  to  Paul  have  drawn 
others  as  well  as  papa  on  the  wrong  scent,  as  I  meant 
them  to  do.  Very  good-natured  of  Paul  to  help  me  out 
so  well,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Jane.  I  am  dense  in  such  matters.  I 
don't  quite  understand  the  advantage  of  it." 

"It  is  very  simple.  Papa  thinks  I  am  safe,  and  does 
not  watch  me.  Mrs.  Dashwood  thinks  some  one  is  really 
going'  to  be  fool  enough  to  take  me  off  her  hands,  and  ab- 
stains occasionally  from  bullying  me.  Between  them  I 
get  my  freedom,  and  see  Arthur,  and  write  to  him  as  much 
as  I  choose.  And  Mr.  Peel  himself  is  regarded  as  so  per- 
fectly free,  that  all  the  world  set  him  down  as  about  to 
marry  Miss  Lynes." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  213 

"But  if  I  were  in  your  place  I  don't  think  I  should 
like  such  perfect  liberty  as  that." 

"  You  wouldn't  care  if  you  knew,  as  I  do,  that  all  these 
reports  are  utterly  malignant  and  preposterous,"  exclaim- 
ed Miss  Dashwood.  "  Arthur  marry  Miss  Lynes  !  with 
his  fastidious  tastes  and  admiration  of  refinement  !  I 
should  like  you  to  see  her,  Esther;  I  should  only  like 
you  once  to  see  her !  You  wouldn't  be  so  desperately 
sure  of  her  becoming  my  rival,  if  you  did." 

Miss  Dashwood's  wish  was  destined  to  be  accomplished. 
Almost  while  the  words  were  yet  on  her  lips,  a  sharp 
turn  in  the  path  brought  them  in  full  sight  of  three  peo 
pie  on  horseback,  who  had  just  turned  into  the  upper 
park  from  the  common,  and  Esther  recognized  instantly 
that  two  of  the  three  were  Mrs.  Strangways  and  Mr 
Peel. 

"  A  most  extraordinary  coincidence,  as  your  friend 
Miss  Whitty  would  say,  Esther.  Please  talk  away  to 
me,  and  let  us  have  the  manner  of  being  unconcerned 
as  we  pass.  Mrs.  Strangways  and  that  —  that  other  per- 
son will  be  hoping  to  see  me  look  annoyed  :  but  they 
will  be  disappointed.  Do  look  at  the  heiress's  figure ! 
Arthur  likes  delicate  mignon  lines  —  must  not  that  waist 
be  fearfully  seductive  to  him  ?  " 

Miss  Dashwood  tried  hard  to  make  her  manner  natu- 
ral, and  probably  succeeded  well  enough  ,to  prevent  Mrs. 
Strangways  and  that  —  that  other  person  from  detecting 
the  effort;  but  Arthur  Peel  knew,  long  before  they  reach- 
ed her,  what  kind  of  feelings  were  masked  by  Jane's 
smiling  face  and  ringing  laugh.  He  felt  horribly  ill  at 
ease  himself.  Women  can  carry  off  such  a  situation  read- 
ily enough :  indeed,  I  have  known  some  of  them,  who 
are  never  so  thoroughly  natural,  and  in  their  element,  as 
when  they  have  to  play  one  lover  off  against  another, 
doling  out  equal  hope  to  both,  and  utter  despair  to  neither. 


214  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

But  coquetry  is  not  inborn  in  men, —  in  Englishmen,  at 
all  events.  There  are  male  coquettes,  as  there  are  male 
milliners  and  male  dancers ;  but  Nature  asserts  herself  in 
every  case.  Just  when  the  last  perfection  in  art  is  re- 
quired, they  lack  those  finer  graces  of  the  sex  whose  at- 
tributes they  are  infringing,  and  become  ridiculous.  Ar- 
thur Peel  could  carry  on  any  number  of  flirtations  apart ; 
could  parry  jealous  questionings  with  a  mixture  of  aplomb 
and  indignant  tenderness  that  belonged  almost  to  the^ 
highest  stage  of  science ;  but  yet  to  the  very  highest  he 
could  not  reach.  Meeting  the  woman  who  loved  him,  in 
the  company  of  the  woman  whose  fifty  thousand  pounds 
he  desired  to  possess,  he  looked  more  foolish,  more  awk- 
ward, than  any  school  gill  of  fifteen  would  do  if  sudden- 
ly called  into  a  position  in  which  just  the  same  amount 
of  tact  should  be  required  of  her. 

But,  whatever  the  feelings  of  the  others,  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways,  at  least,  looked  radiant,  and  would  on  no  account 
pass  Jane  and  Esther  with  merely  bowing.  She  stopped, 
she  shook  hands,  she  made  playful  surmises  as  to  the  object 
of  their  early  walk  :  finally  she  introduced  Jane  to  Miss 
Lynes.  The  heiress  nodded  with  the  affability  that  her 
wealth  and  her  magnificient  mount  and  her  groom  behind 
her,  and  her  present  success  with  Arthur,  warranted  her  to 
feel :  Jane  drew  up  her  little  figure  and  inclined  her  head 
about  three-quarters  of  an  inch  with  an  awfully  supercil- 
ious ghost  of  a  smile,  extending  as  much  to  Mr.  Peel  as 
to  Miss  Lynes. 

"Have  you  walked  far,  Miss  Fleming?  Arthur  inquir- 
ed, bringing  his  horse  nearer  to  the  path  and  farther  from 
the  heiress,  but  not  daring  to  address  Jane  herself.  "  We 
did  not  see  you  on  the  common.  I  suppose —  ah  — 

He  was  assisted  out  of  his  dilemma  by  Jane.  That 
one  word  "  we  "  had  sent  all  the  angry  blood  from  her 
heart  to  her  cheeks,  and  Mr.  Peel  knew  before  she  spoke, 
the  kind  of  answer  he  had  to  expect. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WirFP  215 

"  We  haven't  been  far,  Mr.  Peel.  Milly  has  gone  to 
spend  the  day  with  those  dreadful  school-friends  of  hers, 
the  Stnithetts,  and  as  I  never  can  stand  the  cotton  atmos- 
phere for  more  than  five  minutes  without  a  sensation  of 
choking,  I  made  my  escape,  and  asked  Esther  to  come 
out  with  me  here  for  a  little  purer  air." 

It  was  not  a  refined  thrust :  Jane  was  the  first  to  con- 
fess herself  afterwards  that  she  had  been  positively  un- 
ladylike. But  it  took  the  desired  effect  at  the  time.  No 
fine  shaft  could  have  pierced  so  tough  a  skin,  morally  and 
physically,  as  Miss  Lynes's ;  but  the  slightest  allusion  to 
trade  made  her  actually  shiver.  She  was  so  exultingly 
proud  of  her  money,  so  thoroughly  ashamed  of  the  way 
in  which  her  money  had  been  made ! 

"  Who  are  the  Smithetts  ?  "  she  cried,  in  that  quick  fa- 
miliar way  with  which  people  of  her  breeding  always  try 
to  throw  off  their  confusion.  "  I  never  met  them  out  — 
I  never  heard  of  them.  Are  they  in  society  ?  " 

"  Some  persons  visit  them,"  said  Jane,  in  a  frightfully 
clear,  syllabic  manner.  "  I  believe  old  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Smithett  belong  to  a  highly  respectable  class  of  persons. 
The  daughters,  from  being  ashamed  of  their  parents  and 
of  their  business,  are  insufferable.  Is  that  really  one  of 
Stone  and  Mason's  horse«,  Mrs.  Strangways  ?  It  is  a  much 
more  decent-looking  creature  than  any  papa  ever  gets  for 
Milly  and  me." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  you  won't  get  any  hack-horses  when  you 
ride  with  me  again,  Mrs.  Strangways,"  interrupted  Miss 
Lynes.  "  They're  such  miserable  screws,  I  don't  care  to 
be  seen  with  them ;  and  you  know  you  can  always  have 
one  of  mine,  whenever  you  like.  I  keep  three,  beside  the 
groom's." 

Arthur  Peel  had  always  felt  a  mild  chronic  distaste  for 
Miss  Lynes's  person ;  but  at  this  moment  it  rose  into 
something  very  near  strong  repugnance.  Her  corpulent 


216  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

figure,  her  stunted  features  had  never  stood  out  in  such 
strong  relief  as  they  did  now,  with  Jane  Dash  wood's  deli- 
cate form  and  proud  little  patrician  face  straight  before 
him.  Her  bragging  pride  of  wealth  and  innate  vulgarity 
of  soul  had  never  revolted  him  as  they  did  now,  with 
Jane's  mocking  wit  ready  to  call  them  out  and  treasure 
them  for  his  especial  gratification  and  benefit  hereafter. 

How  devoutly  he  wished  Jane  Dashwood  had  Miss 
Lynes' s  money  —  or  half  of  it !  He  thought  he  would 
marry  her  to-morrow  with  half  of  it,  and  let  Miss  Lyne's 
and  her  three  horses,  besides  the  groom's,  go  to  the  deuce. 
He  almost  thought,  looking  at  the  two  young  women  to- 
gether, that  he  would  marry  Jane  without  a  penny,  and 
leave  Miss  Lynes  with  all  her  wealth  for  some  one  of 
stronger  stomach  than  himself. 

He  almost  thought  so :  but  Arthur  Peel  was  too  old  a 
hand  ever  to  act  upon  any  foolish  impulse.  A  delicate 
lithe  figure  and  proud  little  patrician  face  are  very  nice 
things  indeed  for  a  man  who  can  afford  to  pay  for  them 
—  which  he  could  not.  He  was  over  head  and  ears  in 
debt ;  his  family  were  bankrupts  ;  his  only  hope  of  being 
able  to  save  his  commission,  or  his  position  in  life  at  all, 
rested  upon  his  being  able  to  bring  his  own  handsome  face 
to  a  good  matrimonial  market  as  speedily  as  possible.  As 
much  love  as  it  was  in  his  nature  to  feel  he  felt  at  this 
moment  for  Jane  Dashwood ;  as  much  disgust  as  any  wo- 
man, young  and  well-disposed  towards  himself,  could  fill 
him  with  he  felt  for  Miss  Lynes ;  and  for  an  instant,  as  I 
have  said,  the  desperate  folly  of  being  true  to  the  one  and 
throwing  up  the  other  did  enter  his  brain. 

That  instant  was  enough  to  show  him  the  danger  of  al- 
lowing feeling  ever  to  dally  with  principle.  Young 
women,  however  vulgar,  with  fifty  thousand  pounds  to 
their  portion,  are  not  readily  met,  and  are  quickly  lost. 
Already  two  or  three  men  of  family  as  high,  and  with 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  217 

position  less  desperate  than  his  own,  were  steadily  in  pur- 
suit of  Miss  Lynes.  A  little  well-founded  jealousy  on 
her  part,  a  slight  suspicion  as  to  the  disinterestedness  of 
his  motives,  and  his  game  might  be  up. 

Mr.  Peel  turned  his  eyes  resolutely  from  Jane  Dash- 
wood's  face,  and  fixing  them  upon  Miss  Lynes,  asked  her, 
in  rather  a  low  voice,  if  she  was  ashamed  of  riding  with 
him,  as  he  was  on  a  hack-horse  ?  If  so,  she  had  only  to 
speak,  and,  whatever  the  violence  to  his  own  feelings,  he 
wrould  go  at  once  in  an  opposite  direction. 

"  You  droll  creature !  "  cried  Miss  Lynes  in  her  loudest 
tone.  "As  if  I  had  ever  taken  the  trouble  to  look  what 
your  horse  was  like !  Nothing  like  the  vanity  of  men  I 
do  believe — and  all  the  time,  do  you  know  you  are  losing 
your  flower?  I  shall  take  care  how  I  waste  one  of  my 
rare  winter  roses  upon  you  another  time." 

And  she  leant  forward,  and  with  an  air  of  the  most  per- 
fect, recognized  familiarity  adjusted  a  flower  that  was 
nearly  falling  from  Mr.  Peel's  buttonhole. 

It  was  more  thnn  Jane  Dashwood's  strength  could  bear. 
She  had  marked  Arthur's  low  tone;  she  intercepted  the 
look  which  passed  from  his  eyes  to  the  heiress  as  she 
stooped  forward  towards  him  now ;  and  a  feeling  nearer 
akin  to  positive  anguish  than  any  he  had  ever  yet  caused 
her,  contracted  her  heart.  That  he  could  never  love  Miss 
Lynes,  she  knew ;  but,  tempted  by  his  own  need,  might 
he  not  be  brought  in  time,  —  might  he  not  already  have 
brought  himself,  to  the  thought  of  marrying  her? 

"  Esther,  it  is  time  for  us  to  go  on.  These  November  days 
are  so  short,  and  we  have  not  got  half  through  our  walk 
yet." 

"  And  we   were  to  have  been  at  the   Oofton's   at  two? 
and  it  is  now  half-past  one,"  said  Mrs.  Strangways,  look- 
ing at  her  watch.     "Thank  you,  Jane  dear,  for  reminding 
me  of  the  time.     I  could  not  get  those  young  people  on 
10 


218  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

when  we  were  in  the  country.  They  persisted  in  calling 
it  warm,  and  looking  out  for  violets,  in  spite  of  all  my  as- 
sertions about  its  being  the  depth  of  winter.  Miss  Flem- 
ing, I  am  to  see  you  on  Thursday,  I  hope?  That  is  right. 
Come  early  with  Jane  and  Milly.  You  will  have  an  op- 
portunity of  renewing  your  acquaintance  with  a  Wey- 
mouth  friend  —  that  is,  if  Miss  Dash  wood  will  give  you]  • 
carte  blanche  for  doing  so." 

And  then  Mrs.  Strangways'  affection  for  her  young 
friends  could  not  be  satisfied  without  another  warm  shake 
of  the  hand ;  and  Jane  had  to  submit  to  another  patroniz- 
ing nod  of  triumph  from  Miss  Lynes,  as,  laughing  and 
talking  in  an  under  tone  to  Arthur  Peel,  she  rode  off  by 
his  side. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  my  rival  now  ? "  she 
cried,  after  a  minute,  to  Esther.  "  Do  you  think  there  is 
imminent  danger  of  Arthur  Peel's  falling  in  love  with 
Miss  Lynes  ?  " 

"  With  Miss  Lynes,  herself,  —  no !  " 

"But  with  her  money,  yes.  You  think  her  rare  roses 
in  November,  the  three  '  orses  besides  the  groom's  '  will 
tempt  him  ?  I  don't,  Esther.  It  is  not  in  Arthur's  na- 
ture to  sell  himself  to  such  a  woman  as  that.  Look  at 
them  together!  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  contrast ?  I 
can  tell  by  the  turn  of  Arthur's  head,  even  at  this  dis- 
tance, that  it  is  she  who  is  doing  all  the  talking — just 
in  the  same  forward  way  that  she  volunteered  to  button 
his  coat  for  him.  I  suppose,  however  hideous  a  woman 
is,  men  feel  flattered  at  having  love  made  to  them  with 
such  outrageous  warmth  —  but  to  return  it  by  love ! 
Ah,  that  is  another  thing." 

Through  the  long  vista  of  leafless  trees  Miss  Dashwo.od 
continued  to  watch  the  riding-party  as  long  as  they  were 
in  sight.  Just  as  they  turned  into  the  town  park,  and 
when  the  archway  across  the  road  would  in  another  mo- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  210 

nient  have  shut  them  out  of  sight,  Mr.  Peel  turned, 
checked  his  horse  for  an  instant,  and  raised  his  hand  to 
his  hat. 

The  blood  rushed  up  crimson  into  Miss  Dash  wood's 
face. 

"  Do  you  see  him,  poor  fellow  ?  —  Esther,  do  you  see 
him  ?  He  wants  me  to  know  by  that  look  that  he  wishes 
he  was  here,  and  that  his  companions  are  odious  to  him. 
How  wrong  I  was  to  show  such  annoyance  before  those 
women  —  as  if  it  could  matter  to  me  Mrs.  Strangways 
having  entrapped  him,  for  once,  into  riding  with  her  and 
Miss  Lynes  !  I  was  very  wrong  —  wasn't  I  ?  " 

"  You  acted  naturally,  Jane,"  said  Esther,  who  felt  her- 
self unable  to  decipher  such  worlds  of  meaning  in  Arthur's 
parting  salutation.  "  Mr.  Peel  seemed  quite  intimate 
enough  with  Miss  Lynes  to  justify  your  annoyance. 
Shall  we  walk  on  a  little  quicker  ?  the  common  is  some 
distance  from  us  yet." 

But  all  Jane  Dash  wood's  desire  for  the  country  was 
gone.  "  There  is  no  good  in  walking  up  that  terrific  hill, 
Esther.  It  is  quite  as  pleasant  here.  Let  us  sit  down 
for  a  few  minutes  and  rest.  I  have  yet  something  I  want 
particularly  to  say  to  you. 

Esther  knew  that  something  particular,  with  Jane  Dash- 
wood,  must  mean  the  only  subject  of  real  interest  to  her 
in  the  world  —  her  own  love-affairs  ;  accordingly,  she  was 
quite  prepared  for  another  indignant  outburst  about 
Arthur  Peel's  seeming  flirtation  with  the  heiress.  When 
Jane  began  to  speak,  however,  all  indignation  had  left 
her  voice,  and  her  face  was  as  soft  and  gentle  as  though 
no  tornado  of  fierce  jealousy  or  quick  repentance  had  just 
swept  across  her  heart. 

"  You  think  my  love  and  my  trust,  too,  are  unreasona- 
ble, Esther.  I  am  quite  sure  you  do  ;  but  you  don't  know 
what  has  made  them  both  so  deep  in  my  heart.  You 


220  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

don't  really  know  how  long  and  hoy}  I  have  trusted  Arthur 
Peel." 

"  Three  years,  you  told  me,  Jane.  You  must  have  been 
almost  a  child  when  your  acquaintance  with  hirn  first  be- 
gan." 

"  I  was  never  a  child,  Esther ;  we  were  not  brought  up 
to  be  children.  I  was  just  as  much  a  woman  at  sixteen 
as  I  am,  or  as  Milly  is  now.  But  I  was  not  quite  sixteen 
when  I  first  met  Arthur.  I  went  to  spend  the  Christmas 
holidays  with  my  aunt  Robarts,  papa's  sister,  in  Leicester- 
shire ;  and  Arthur  who  was  going  to  stay  in  the  house, 
too,  travelled  down  in  the  same  carriage  with  me.  He 
was  quite  a  boy  then,  he  had  only  just  got  his  commission^ 
and  he  was  as  simple  as  possible,  much  simpler  than  I 
was.  Well,  you  know  how  such  things  go  on !  We 
played  battledore  and  shuttle-cock,  and  sang  duets,  and 
g.ive  each  other  flowers,  and  went  through  all  the  estab- 
lished stages  of  a  boy-and-girl  flirtation ;  and  then,  one 
evening  in  the  greenhouse,  he  made  me  an  offer.  I  don't 
think  I  cared  very  much  about  him,  but  I  accepted  him 
because  I  always  meant  to  accept  the  first  man  who  offered 
to  me.  The  Robartses  encouraged  it  all  immensely,  and 
papa  wrote  me  the  only  affectionate  letter  I  ever  had  from 
him  in  my  life,  and  everybody  let  me  know,  directly  or 
indirectly  how  wonderfully  clever  I  had  been  at  sixteen 
to  get  hold  of  such  a  catch  as  Arthur  Peel." 

"  The  engagement  was  a  permitted  one,  then  ?  " 

"  Permitted !  I  should  think  it  was  permitted.  Arthur 
had  an  old  aunt  living  at  that  time,  who  was  expected  to 
leave  him  the  whole  of  her  money,  something  like  twenty 
or  thirty  thousand  pounds,  and  we  all  felt  sure  we  had 
got  hold  of  this  money,  and  thought  Arthur  the  most 
delightful,  promising,  excellent  young  man  living.  Well, 
the  aunt  died,  about  six  months  after  I  was  engaged,  and 
left  every  shilling  she  had  to  her  solicitor.  When  Arthur 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  221 

wrote  and  told  me  of  his  fallen  prospects,  and  said  it  need 
make  no  difference  to  us,  and  his  profession  in  time  would 
be  enough  for  us  to  many  on,  I  first  really  felt  that  I 
loved  him.  Papa  was  in  a  great  rage,  and  stormed  about 
Arthur,  as  if  he  had  taken  us  in,  instead  of  being  disap- 
pointed himself.  He  said  the  engagement  shouldn't  go 
on  a  day,  that  it  was  a  mockery  for  a  penniless  cornet  to 
talk  of  marrying  one  of  his  daughters,  that  the  Peels 
were  a  dissipated,  ruined  family  (I  never  heard  of  their 
bad  morals  before,  you  must  know,)  and  he  should  have 
me  back  upon  his  hands  in  a  twelvemonth,  if  he  was  fool 
enough  to  consent  to  such  a  beggarly  marriage.  If  I 
was  pretty  enough  to  get  as  good  an  offer  as  Mr.  Peel's 
had  been  at  sixteen,  I  should  be  sure  to  have  another  as 
good  if  I  waited.  As  to  love,  he  and  Mrs.  Dashwood 
both  knew  very  well  I  had  accepted  the  offer  simply  be- 
cause it  was  an  eligible  one.  Mrs.  Robarts  had  informed 
them  my  manner  showed  that  pretty  plainly  from  the  first, 
and  so  on. 

"I  didn't  make  any  opposition,  for  I  knew,  if  they  chose, 
they  could  hinder  me  from  seeing  Arthur;  but  I  swore  in 
my  heart  I  would  never  give  him  up  as  long  as  he  himself 
wished  to  marry  me.  I  had  accepted  him  half  through 
vanity,  half  through  worldliness ;  but  at  the  first  word  of 
being  false  to  him,  under  his  fallen  prospects,  something 
stronger  seemed  to  rise  up  in  my  heart,  and  I  have  kept 
to  it.  Yes,  Esther,  I  have  kept  to  it  ever  since." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  you,  Jane.  Whatever  other  people 
may  think,  I  say  you  determined  right." 

"Sometimes  I  think  so,  too;  but,  you  know,  wrong  is 
so  mixed  up  with  right,  or  so  grows  of  it,  that  however 
one  starts  one  seems  forced  into  evil  as  one  gets  on.  I 
may  have  been  right  in  determining  to  stand  by  Arthur, 
whether  he  was  rich  or  poor,  but  I  have  been  wrong  a 
hundred,  a  thousand  times,  in  all  the  deceit  and  prevarica- 


222  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

tion,  and  sometimes  the  downright  falsehoods,  of  the  last 
three  years.  Just  in  the  same  way  wrong  seems  in  time 
to  become  right.  Papa  was  worldly  and  harsh  in  making 
me  break  with  Arthur  Peel  as  he  was  then  ;  but  I  believe, 
if  I  could  judge  dispassionately,  I  should  consider  any 
father  right,  who  held  his  daughter  back  from  marrying 
such  a  man  as  Arthur  Peel  is  now." 

"  Oh,  Jane  !  can  you  say  this  ?  " 

"  I  can  both  say  it  and  feel  it.  If  we  had  married 
early,  if  we  had  been  openly  engaged,  he  might  —  God 
knows  if  it  be  so,  but  I  try  to  think  it !  —  he  might  have 
been  different,  for  my  sake.  But  only  bound  as  he  has 
been  to  me  (and  such,  even,  as  our  engagement  is,  we  have 
ourselves  broken  it  off  half  a  score  of  times,)  he  has  had 
nothing  to  hold  him  back  from  becoming  like  all  the  rest 
of  his  family.  It  is  inborn  in  every  one  of  the  Peels  to 
be  extravagant  and  dissipated,  and  a  gambler.  His  two 
eldest  brothers  are  outlawed,  the  third  is  following  fast 
on  their  steps,  and  Arthur  himself — "  but  here  Miss 
Dashwood's  voice  trembled,  and  she  stopped  short. 

"  I  wish  you  had  married  him  long  ago,"  cried  Esther. 
"  It  is  not  very  like  me  to  counsel  runaway  marriages, 
but  I  do  think  a  runaway  marriage  would  have  been  bet- 
ter for  you  both  than  the  sort  of  engagement  that  binds 
you  now.  Marry  Arthur  Peel  while  you  still  love  each 
other,  and  while  there  is  a  hope  of  reclaiming  him.  I  will 
be  your  bridesmaid,  Jane." 

Miss  Dashwood  laughed  bitterly  :  then  the  quick 
blood  started  to  her  cheek  again.  "Your  proposal  might 
have  been  worth  listening  to  three  years  ago,  Esther. 
We  were  younger  and  simpler,  and  more  sentimental  then 
than  we  are  now.  Arthur  Peel,  at  two-and-twenty,  is  a 
great  deal  too  old  to  commit  an  action  of  such  surpass- 
ing folly  as  to  add  a  penniless  wife  to  the  heavy  burthen 
of  his  other  incumbrances." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  223 


"  Jane,  do  you  mean  ?  • 


"  I  mean,  cried  Miss  Dashwood,  starting  up  suddenly, 
"  that  Arthur  and  I  thoroughly  understand  each  other  and 
ourselves.  We  are  engaged  in  our  way,  which,  as  I  told 
you,  would  never  be  yours,  and  if  I  talked  to  you  for  a 
hundred  hours,  instead  of  one,  you  would  know  no  more 
about  us  than  you  do  now.  You  would  still  be  Esther 
Fleming,  and  we  should  still  be  Arthur  Peel  and  Jane 
Dashwood.  Oh,  no,"  she  added,  as  Esther  turned  towards 
the  common  which  was  to  have  been  their  destination  — 
"  oh,  no,  let  us  get  on  home  at  once ;  we  want  a  few 
turns  in  Milsom  Street,  to  enliven  us  after  all  this  soli- 
tude. Country  walks  are  very  innocent  and  charming, 
and  sentimental  in  theory,  but  in  practice  —  va  ! 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  wear  on  Thursday  ?  Papa  and 
Mrs.  Dashwood  are  so  shamefully  stingy  that  Milly  and  I 
will  be  obliged  to  go  in  our  washed  muslins.  How  t  wish 
philanthropy  occasionally  bore  fruits  at  home  as  well  as 
abroad  ! " 

The  tide  had  turned  again  :  all  that  the  fickle  nature 
contained  of  seriousness  had  evaporated.  Blue  grena- 
dines and  white  silks ;  gored  skirts  and  plain  ones ;  the 
advantages  of  fair  women  over  dark  women  in  possessing 
a  wider  range  of  becoming  colors :  these  formed  the  sta- 
ple of  Miss  Dashwood's  conversation  during  the  remain- 
der of  the  day. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

RIVAL    CHAKMS. 


WHEN  she  first  left  Countisbury  Miss  Fleming  would 
have  scouted  the  idea  that  she  could  ever  find  pleasure 


224  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

either  in  dress,  or  in  parties,  or  in  anything  save  letters 
from  Malta  during  Oliver  Carew's  absence. 

As  the  evening  approached,  however,  on  which  she  was 
again  to  meet  Paul,  she  could  not  hide  from  herself  that 
she  was  looking  forward  with  an  unusual  amount  of  in- 
terest to  the  event ;  also  that  she  made  more  little  rehear- 
sals with  flowers  and  muslins  and  lace  for  several  succes- 
sive evenings  than  she  had  ever  done  before  in  her  whole 
simple  life. 

Was  she  growing  vain,  avid  of  general  admiration,  or 

—  and  this  question  gave  her  conscience  a  sharper  prick 

—  were  all  these  rehearsals  proof  of  a  desire  to  stand  well 
with  one  man,  and  that  one  another  than  Oliver? 

"  You  look  distinguished,  Esther,  said  Mrs.  Tudor,  as 
her  niece  stood  before  her  for  approval  on  the  evening  of 
the  party,  "and  it  is  the  highest  praise  I  could  give  you. 
The  simple  unstudied  style  suits  you.  Little  mignon 
persons  require  small  fripperies ;  large  dark  women  de- 
mand few  and  flowing  lines.  Our  styles  are  the  same. 
I  never  wore  more  in  my  hair  in  my  life  than  you  have 
now.  Our  cast  of  features  can  afford  to  set  fashion  aside." 

Esther  was  dressed  in  a  black  lace  that  Mrs.  Tudor's 
own  cast-off  stores  had  furnished  forth.  A  single  scar- 
let flower  was  in  her  hair,  a  gold  bracelet,  a  loan  also  of 
Mrs.  Tudor's,  was  her  only  ornament.  But  that  name- 
less something,  which  neither  dress  nor  fashion,  nor 
always  birth,  can  give  ;  that  fine  grace  which,  lacking  a 
better  word,  we  call  distinction,  was  Esther  Fleming's  in- 
herited portion,  and  Mrs.  Tudor  was  right  when  she 
added  to  her  other  praise  a  prophecy  that  her  niece  would 
be  by  far  the  most  refined  and  best-bred  young  woman  in 
Mrs.  Strangways'  rooms. 

"  Some  families  take  up  every  plebeian  face  that  they 
have  the  misfortune  to  be  allied  with,  Esther,  but  we  re- 
tain our  own  features,  excepting  Joan,  whom  I  regard  as 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  225 

a  mere  accidental  offset,  the  one  crooked  branch  you  will 
see  on  the  handsomest  tree.  We  shall  continue  to  show 
our  good  blood  through  a  dozen  generations.  Your 
mother,  poor  thing,  had  no  beauty  and  no  birth  either. 
I  believe  I  have  told  you  so  before,  but  you  have  not  in- 
herited a  look  —  no,  not  a  single  feature  from  her.  You 
have  Garratt  Fleming's  face,  line  for  line,  and  I  cannot 
pay  you  a  higher  compliment.  Your  dear  grandfather 
was  unfortunate  in  his  domestic  concerns."  This  was 
Mrs.  Tudor's  pretty  way  of  stating  the  fact  that  a  man 
was  an  unprincipled  spendthrift ;  "  but  he  was  the  noblest- 
looking  man  and  the  most  perfect  dresser  of  his  time. 
Enjoy  yourself  well,  child,  and  be  sure,  if  Colonel  Dash- 
wood  offers  to  pay  their  share  of  the  fly,  you  take  the 
money  at  once.  It  shows  very  ill-breeding  ever  to  make 
any  difficulty  about  the  settlement  of  small  accounts."  - 

This  last  injunction  of  Mrs.  Tudor's  proved  her  to  be 
ignorant  of  the  finer  part  of  Colonel  Dash  wood's  char- 
acter. He  accompanied  his  daughters  to  the  carnage ; 
he  took  and  held  Esther's  hand  with  that  paternal  warmth 
he  seemed  always  ready  to  feel  for  all  young  women  ex- 
cept his  own  children ;  finally,  he  remarked  how  kind  it 
was  of  Miss  Fleming  to  call  round  for  Jane  and  Milly. 
They  must  do  as  much  for  her  the  next  time  they  were 
all  going  to  the  same  party.  But  Colonel  Dashwood 
knew,  as  well  as  Mrs.  Tudor  herself,  when  it  was  decently 
possible  to  be  spared  eighteenpence. 

•  "  Papa  has  given  me  a  color  for  the  evening,"  said  Jane 
as  they  drove  off.  "  It  does  make  my  cheeks  burn  so 
when  I  hear  those  polite  little  roundabout  ways  of  being 
mean  that  our  family  excel  in." 

"I    hope    your  dress   isn't    very    fresh,   Esther,"  cried 

Milly.     "What  is  it,  black  ?     Oh,  how  dowdy!  however, 

it's  all  the  better  for  us.     I  was  afraid  you  would  have  a 

new   white  muslin,  and  we  are  in  our  old   washed   ones. 

10* 


226  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

You  have  got  a  bouquet,  I  see,  so  have  I.  Wasn't  it 
good  of  Jane  ?  Papa  presented  us  with  two  shillings  to 
buy  flowers  — just  fancy,  two  shillings,  twenty-four  pence 
between  us  —  and  she  gave  up  her  share  to  me.  Jenny's 
always  so  good  in  these  little  things." 

"I  wish  you  would  have  mine,  Jane,"  cried  Esther; 
"they  are  very  good  ones  that  were  sent  to  Aunt  Tudor 
this  morning;  but  they  are  not  of  the  least  use  to  me. 
Do  take  them  off  my  hands  as  a  kindness." 

Jane  Dashwood's  nature  was  not  irrevocably  selfish,  like 
Milly's,  but  the  temptation  of  a  hothouse  bouquet  was  a 
strong  one.  She  thought  of  her  washed  muslin  ;  of  Miss 
Lynes'  certain  costly  freshness  ;  she  knew  Arthur  had  so 
often  told  her  so  that  one  of  her  most  irresistible  poses 
was  when  she  held  her  lips  upon  a  bouquet  and  half  rais- 
ed her  eyes  towards  her  partner's  face.  "  It  seems  dread- 
fully selfish  to  rob  you,  Esther,  but  if  you  really  don't 
want  them." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  give  them  you,  Jane,"  said  Esther, 
thinking  with  a  little  pang  of  her  unbroken  black  dress. 
"You  know  better  what  to  do  with  such  things  than  I 

o 

do." 

"  It  is  thoroughly  base  of  yon,  Miss  Dashwood,  for  all 
that,"  remarked  Milly,  when  Esther  had  made  over  her 
sole  ornament  into  Jane's  hands.  "We  poor  wretches 
who  are  on  our  promotion  want  adorning  more  than  en- 
gaged people,  you  know." 

"That  is  just  why  I  am  selfish,  Milly,"  replied  Miss 
Dashwood.  "  I  am  so  utterly  thrown  on  rny  own  resources, 
so  hopelessly  on  my  promotion  again  !  Paul  usurped,  in  se- 
cret, by  mysterious  influences,  and  openly  by  Miss  Fleming, 
and  Mr.  Peel  given  by  the  unanimous  consent  of  all  his 
friends  to  Miss  Lynes.  It  is  a  pity  there  are  not  a  few 
willow-leaves  among  these  flowers,  Esther.  My  position, 
to-night  would  make  them  a  very  appropriate  endowment 
for  me." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  227 

"You  don't  mean  that,  Jenny,"  said  Millicent.  "You 
know  that  in  spite  of  your  washed  muslin  you  are  bent  on 
Miss  Lynes's  utter  discomposure  and  retreat,  and  feel  very 
sure  of  it,  too.  I  wish  I  had  some  especial  work  on  my 
hands  like  you.  It  is  so  insipid  dancing  and  talking  with 
everybody  and  not  caring  for  any  one  in  particular.  I 
hope  John  Alexander  won't  have  managed  to  get  there, 
though.  He's  all  very  well  when  one  spends  the  day 
with  his  sisters,  but  I  could  not  stand  looking  intimate 
with  him  before  people." 

Which  little  exposition  of  feeling,  I  think,  pretty  sure- 
ly affords  the  key-note  to  Miss  Millicent  Dashwood's  gen- 
eral views  of  life.  She  liked  knowing  the  Smithetts  and 
spending  days  with  them,  because  they  were  rich,  and 
wealth  was  the  one  thing  that  Milly,  in  her  inmost  heart, 
most  yearned  after  and  respected.  She  liked  John  Alex- 
ander's attentions  very  well  indeed  when  only  his  sisters 
were  by  to  witness  them.  She  could  even  look  forward 
a  few  years  and  picture  herself  marrying  John  Alexander, 
if  she  were  not  sufficiently  lucky  in  the  mean  time  to  meet 
with  any  one  who  happened  to  be  a  gentleman  as  well  as 
rich.  But  to  meet  Mr.  Smithett  among  a  room  full  of 
decent  people,  to  have  to  receive  his  attentions  and  lis- 
ten to  his  silly  jokes  and  vulgar  laugh,  with  other  persons 
listening  to  them  too,  would  have  given  Milly  about  as 
much  pain  as  anything  not  directly  and  absolutely  wound- 
ing her  own  self-love  could  have  power  to  inflict  on  her. 

Next  to  money,  the  opinion  of  her  little  world  was 
Millicent  Dashwood's  god.  I  think,  though  the  struggle 
might  have  been  sharp,  she  would  really  sooner  have  giv- 
en the  Smithetts  up,  with  their  dinners,  riding-horses, 
presents,  John  Alexander's  attentions,  and  all  the  other 
benefits  that  she  received  from  them,  than  have  it  said  by  the 
people  at  Mrs.  Strangways'  ball  that  she  was  intimate  with 
a  family  of  stocking- weavers.  Any  foolish  sentiment 


228  THE  ORDEAL   FOR    WIVES. 

about  the  Smithett  girls  themselves,  or  inconvenient  grat- 
itude for  any  of  the  kindness  they  had  shown  to  her,  it 
was  not  at  all  in  Millicent  Dashwood's  way  to  feel. 

Not  many  people  had  arrived  when  they  reached  the 
Strangways'  and  the  first  object  that  met  Jane's  eyes  on 
entering  the  cloak-room  was  Miss  Lynes  standing  in  soli- 
tary and  absorbed  attention  before  a  cheval-glass.  The 
heiress  was  dressed  in  a  brocaded' pink  silk,  of  a  hue  and 
texture  gorgeous  to  behold.  This  dress  was  made  with 
excess  of  trimmings,  with  fringes,  with  bows  of  ribbon, 
with  bouquets  of  flowers,  with  lace.  From  poor  Miss 
Lynes's  head  (that  piece  de  resistance  to  all  innately  taste- 
less or  newly-made  women)  depended  a  coronet  of  many 
colors,  fern-leaves,  grasses,  fruits  ;  all  things  of  merit  and 
price  in  themselves,  but  very  hideous  to  look  upon  in  their 
present  position. 

As  she  continued  intent  upon  her  employment,  which 
was  to  hinder  her  hair  from  parting,  as  thinnish  sandy  hair 
has  a  habit  of  doing  upon  high,  nude,  glossy  foreheads, 
Jane  Dashwood  danced  lightly  behind  the  unconscious 
heiress,  and  by  pantomimic  gestures  conveyed  to  Esther 
and  Milly  her  own  sense  of  the  varied  graces  of  her 
wealthy  rival's  dress  and  figure.  Just  as  she  had  com- 
menced a  very  graphic  representation  of  the  set  of  two 
square-looking  red  elbows,  Miss  Lynes  caught  sight  of  her 
in  the  glass,  and  turned  round  sharply. 

"  La,  Miss  Dashwood,  how  you  startled  me !  I  declare 
I  never  heard  you  come  in  at  all.  I'm  so  used  to  servants 
it  seems  quite  odd  to  do  anything  for  myself.  Do  you 
think  my  hair  will  do?  " 

"  Oh,  perfectly,  I  should  say,"  Jane  answered,  looking 
slowly  up  and  down  Miss  Lynes's  figure.  "  Your  dress 
is  quite  magnificent." 

"  This  ?  La,  no,  I  think  it  very  plain,  I  can  assure  you  ; 
but  for  a  little  party  it  don't  lo<5k  well  to  be  over-dressed 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        229 

Your  sister,  I  suppose  ?  "  looking  at  Milly.  "  You're  not 
out  yet,  are  you  ?  " 

It  was  not  in  Millicent  Dashwood's  nature  to  be  any- 
thing but  civil  to  the  owner  of  fifty  thousand  pounds,  and 
she  answered  very  sweetly  indeed  that  she  was  out.  She 
had  been  to  balls  for  the  last  six  months. 

"  Dear  me  !  I  thought  from  your  dress  you  weren't ;  " 
and  she  glanced  at  Milly's  skirt,  which,  like  Jane's  had 
shrunk  from  its  pristine  length  in  washing.  "Just  set  the 
door  open  for  me,"  she  added,  turning  to  Esther.  "  It's 
enough  to  tear  one's  dress  to  pieces  cramming  in  and  out 
of  these  little  pokey  bedrooms." 

Esther  looked  straight  between  Miss  Lynes's  eyebrows 
for  a  moment,  then  turned  away,  and  the  heiress,  with  all 
the  rustle  of  vulgar  assurance,  stalked  away  by  herself 
down  stairs. 

"Oh,  you  dear  old  Esther!"  cried  Jane,  and  in  her  ex- 
ultation she  ran  up  and  embraced  Esther  round  the  waist. 
"I  never  saw  such  a  lovely  take-down  in  my  life  —  so  ut- 
terly demolishing,  and  yet  so  dignified.  I  would  give 
anything  to  have  let  that  woman's  impertinence  down  as 
you  did." 

"If  her  skin  is  not  as  thick  as  a  buffalo's,  which  it  looks, 
she  must  have  felt  your  sarcasm  when  you  were  praising 
her  looks,  Jane,"  said  Milly.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  any- 
thing so  odious  as  her  telling  me  that  my  dress  was  short? 
Only  that  I  knew  you  and  Esther  were  quite  strong 
enough  without  me,  I  would  have  let  her  see  pretty  plain- 
ly how  intensely  vulgar  I  thought  her." 

"  She  is  not  worth  thinking  about,"  interrupted  Jane, 
quickly,  as  the  sound  of  approaching  steps  told  that  more 
people  were  arriving.  "  If  you  are  ready,  Esther,  we  will 
go  down  at  once.  It  would  be  the  height  of  indecorum 
for  three  young  women  without  a  chaperon  to  enter  a 
room  in  which  more  than  half-a-dozen  people  were  as- 


230  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

semblecl.  Miss  Lynes,  you  see,  has  nestled  her  innocent 
head  under  Mrs.  Strangways'  wing  already." 

There  were,  however,  a  good  many  more  than  half-a- 
dozen  people  in  the  room  when  they  entered ;  and  Miss 
Lynes,  though,  in  the  metaphorical  language  of  ball-rooms, 
under  Mrs.  Strangways'  care,  was,  in  commonplace  speech, 
already  flirting  hard  with  Mr.  Peel  upon  a  remote  and 
isolated  ottoman. 

A  glance  —  less  than  a  glance  —  an  instinctive  momen- 
tary chill  told  Esther,  as  she  went  in,  that  Paul  was  not 
there,  and  she  at  once  retreated  quietly  to  a  corner,  with 
a  general  sense  of  extreme  weariness  of  spirit,  and  with  no 
other  desire  than  to  be  a  passive  spectator  of  what  was 
going  on  about  her  for  the  remainder  of  the  evening. 

"  Vous  me  manquez — je  suis  absent  de  moi-m^me!" 
I  suppose,  at  some  period  of  life,  every  human  being,  in 
some  form  of  speech  or  another,  has  repeated  that  line  of 
Victor  Hugo's  to  his  own  heart.  Esther  Fleming,  who 
knew  nothing  whatever  of  sentiment,  and  had  never  read 
a  word  of  French  poetry,  was  repeating  it  now,  but  un- 
consciously (and,  after  all,  that  is  the  only  way  to  do  such 
things  truly.  All  the  fine  arorna,  all  the  exquisite  half- 
pain  of  love  is  gone,  when  we  are  once  thoroughly  con- 
scious of  what  we  are  about).  She  really  thought  the 
rooms  were  dark  to  her  because  she  had  no  taste  for  balls^ 
no  zest  in  little  intrigues  and  triumphs  like  Milly's ;  no 
one  strong  interest  like  poor  Jane's ;  and  when  she  took 
her  place  between  two  frightfully-old  Bath  young  ladies 
upon  a  sofa,  quite  simply  and  seriously  believed  herself 
to  be  intent  on  watching  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Strangways' 
guests  —  not  the  door  through  which  Paul  Chichester's 
face  might  possibly  appear. 

Mrs.  Strangways'  guests,  whatever  they  might  think  or 
speak  about  their  hostess,  at  any  other  time,  were  very 
numerous  this  night;  and  Mrs.  Strangways,  dressed  with 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          £31 

all  the  exquisite  art  that  to  her  was  second  nature,  and 
with  a  slightly  heightened  shade  of  pink  upon  her  cheeks 
looked  superbly  handsome  as  she  received  them. 

Did  she  remember  the  slights,  the  coldness,  the  positive 
insults  to  which  she  had  submitted  at  different  times  from 
nine-tenths  of  these  smiling  guests  of  hers  ?  Did  her 
smiling  guests  remember  the  condemnation  they  had  so 
often  and  so  loudly  expressed  of  the  woman  who  was  en- 
tertaining them,  as  they  now  shook  her  by  the  hand? 

Esther  asked  herself  this  while  she  watched  repetition 
after  repetition  of  the  some  little  comedy  of  bows  and 
smiles  and  compliments,  as  group  after  group  of  white 
and  pink  and  blue  floated  up  to  Mrs.  Strangways  and 
away  again.  But  poor  Esther  was,  you  know,  quite  bar- 
barian in  all  her  ideas  of  life  and  of  right  and  wrong. 
Who  thinks  of  what  they  have  once  said  of  a  hostess, 
when  they  are  just  going  to  spend  a  pleasant  evening  at 
her  expense?  Who  remembers  that  the  Dean  of  Sha- 
rarn's  wife  and  daughters  were  once  so  bitter  to  one,  when 
the  Dean  of  Sharam's  wife  and  daughters  are  just  going  to 
give  tone  and  respectability  to  one's  whole  party  ?  Every 
one  pronounced  that  Mrs.  Strangways  was  looking  charm- 
ing, and  that  her  rooms  were  lit  and  decorated  with  an 
effect  that  only  her  Parisian  taste  could  produce.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Strangways  (with  Minnie  in  white  muslin,  as  a 
sort  of  domestic  angel  by  their  side)  smiled  and  talked 
to  each  other,  and  to  their  child,  in  the  intervals  of  enter- 
taining their  visitors,  with  a  harmony  and  affection  quite 
rare  to  see.  And  Esther  —  probably  the  only  honest  per- 
son present  —  felt  herself  to  be  positively  misanthropic 
and  bad  of  heart,  for  wondering  how  much  of  genuine 
truth  lay  beneath  all  this  outside  show  of  excellent  taste 
and  kindly  feeling. 

Just  as  the  first  dance  had  ended,  she  heard  Mr.  Chi- 
chester's  name  announced.  The  crowd  of  people  be- 


232  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

tween  herself  and  the  doorway  prevented  her  from  see- 
ing him,  even  if  a  certain  feeling  of  shyness  had  not  hin- 
dered her  from  seeking  to  meet  his  eye ;  but  the  running 
commentaries  of  the  two  aerial  virgins  at  her  side  soon 
put  her  in  possession  of  what  Paul  was  doing  with  him- 
self. 

"  Look  at  him,  Isabella,  at  that  Jane  Dash  wood's  side 
already,  although  she  has  only  eyes  and  ears  for  Mr.  Peel, 
and  giving  her  a  bouquet,  too ;  what  infatuation !  No, 
he  is  only  showing  it  to  her;  he  is  coming  this  way." 
^Esther's  pulse  quickened  a  very  little.  "  How  foolish  it 
looks  to  see  a  man  with  a  bouquet !  Why,  he's  coming 
over  to  us.  Oh,  Bella  dearest,  I  do  believe  he's  going  to 
ask  me  to  dance." 

But  Mr.  Chichester,  as  it  turned  out,  had  other  inten- 
tions. He  returned  the  expectant  smiles  of  the  two  vet- 
eran nymphs  with  a  low  bow,  and  then  passed  quietly 
on  to  Esther's  side. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

"  SITTING    OUT." 

I  AM  afraid  you  have  forgotten  me,  Miss  Fleming. 
Your  face  does  not  show  the  faintest  sign  of  awakening 
recognition." 

Her  face  was  blushing  beautifully :  Paul  thought  so  as 
she  raised  it  to  him. 

"  I  recognize  you  perfectly,  Mr.  Chichester.  I  heard 
your  name  announced,  and  thought  you  would  come  to 
speak  to  me  —  that  is,  of  course,  after  you  had  gone  to 
speak  to  Jane." 

And  then  she  gave  him  her  hand ;  and  felt  that  she 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  233 

had  re-opened  the  acquaintance  with  great  tact  and  dis- 
cretion. It  made  her  feel  so  thoroughly  at  her  ease  to 
allude  to  Miss  Dash  wood  at  once. 

"  After  I  had  spoken  to  Jane,  of  course,"  repeated  Paul. 
"  Jane  is  looking  very  well  this  evening,  and  dancing  with 
Peel,  too,"  he  added,  lowering  his  voice.  "  Poor  little 
Jane !  I  am  glad  to  see  all  these  reports  about  Miss 
Lynes  have  not  had  the  effect  of  making  her  miserable. 
It  must  be  a  horrible  blow  to  a  pretty  woman  to  be  ri- 
valled by  a  plain  one." 

"  A  horrible  blow,  Mr.  Chichester,  but  not  so  bad  as  to 
be  beaten  with  one's  own  arms.  It  would  be  more  bear- 
able to  a  very  lovely  person  to  be  outshone  by  money  or 
rank,  or  ability,  or  anything  in  the  w^orld  than  superior 
loveliness  to  her  own  — I  should  think  so,  at  least,"  she 
interrupted  herself  quickly.  "  I  know  nothing  at  all  prac- 
tically, of  such  things." 

«  Oh  ! " 

"  How  do  you  come  to  be  informed  of  the  reports  about 
Miss  Lynes,  Mr.  Chichester?  I  should  have  thought 
even  Bath  scandal  had  not  wings  sufficiently  strong  to 
travel  to  London." 

"  I  have  several  .channels  of  communication  with  this 
place,"  answered  Paul.  "Jane  Dash  wood  writes  to  me, 
as  you  know,  and  then,  a  few  days  ago  I  was  in  Bath, 
myself." 

"A  few  days  ago?  —  since  I  have  been  here ?" 

"  I  was  in  Bath  last  week.  Why  do  you  look  sur- 
prised ?  " 

"  I  thought  Jane  would  have  mentioned  it,  that  is  all. 
She  generally  tells  me  everything  that  is  going  on." 

"  But  Jane  did  not  know  it.  My  comings  and  goings 
are  very  fitful  at  all  times,  Miss  Fleming,  and  I  have  other 
interests  in  Bath  as  well  as  Miss  Dashwood." 

"  Indeed.     I  was  not  aware  of  it  — "  began  Esther ; 


234  THE,   ORDEJIL  FOR    WIVES. 

then  she  stopped  herself  abruptly.  All  Milly's  hints  and 
stories  about  Paul  came  suddenly  on  her  recollection,  and 
gave  other  meaning  to  the  remark,  which,  for  a  second, 
she  had  foolishly  believed  contained  a  half-allusion  to 
herself. 

In  spite  of  all  her  self-command,  her  eyes  rested  with 
visible  aversion  upon  the  bouquet  of  rare  flowers  that  he 
held  in  his  hand.  No  doubt  these  were  destined  for,  or 
in  some  way  connected  with,  the  same  mysterious  per- 
sonage of  whom  she  had  heard  so  much. 

Paul  seemed  half  to  guess  her  thoughts. 

"  You  look  disapprovingly  at  my  flowers,  Miss  Fleming. 
Are  they  not  good  ones  ?  I  had  hoped  you  would  admire 
them,"  and  he  held  the  bouquet  out  as  though  he  expect- 
ed her  to  take  it. 

But  Esther  only  bent  her  head  down  slightly.  "They 
are  beautiful  flowers,  Mr.  Chichester.  There  cannot  be 
two  opinions  as  to  the  merits  of  white  camellias  and 
heaths  at  this  season  of  the  year." 

"  Then  why  do  you  look  at  them  with  such  undisguis- 
ed contempt?  " 

"  I  never  look  at  flowers  with  contempt.  I  am  not  ac- 
customed to  see  men  carry  bouquets,  and  I  think  it  rath- 
er  " 

"  Pray  do  not  hesitate." 

"  Rather  effeminate,  then,  espscially  for  you.  Camel- 
lias and  white  heath  would  suit  Mr.  Peel  better." 

"  And  you  really  think  that  I  carry  a  bunch  of  flowers 
for  my  own  gratification,  Miss  Fleming  ?  " 

"You  did  not  give  them  to  Jane  just  now,  when  you 
had  an  opportunity  of  doing  so.  If  they  are  not  for  her, 
of  course  they  must  be  for  yourself." 

"I  do  not  see  that  that  is  a  positive  sequitur.  There 
are  other  persons  in  the  world  besides  Jane  Dash  wood 
and  me." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  235 

"  And  you  bring  such  flowers  as  those  to  a  ball  with 
the  vague  intention  of  bestowing  them  on  any  possibly- 
interesting  people  you  may  meet.  You  must  have  a 
great  deal  of  money  to  throw  away,  I  should  think." 

"I  bought  these  flowers  neither  for  Jane  nor  for  my- 
self," said  Paul,  gravely.  "  I  brought  them  from  town 
for  a  person  to  whom  such  things  give  pleasure  —  a  per- 
son who  never  goes  to  balls,  Miss  Fleming  —  and  when  I 
reached  Bath  I  found  it  was  too  late  to  send  them  to 
their  destination  to-night.  They  would  have  withered  by 
to-morrow,  and  I  brought  them  here  for  you.  Will  you 
have  them  ?  " 

Esther  hesitated.  These  flowers,  after  all,  then,  were 
destined  for  the  same  hands  that  had  received  all  Paul's 
former  gifts ;  and  yet  —  and  yet  her  heart  throbbed  with 
a  reasonless  emotion,  wildly  akin  to  joy,  as  he  told  her 
so.  The  straight-forward  words,  his  calm  eyes  looking 
so  fully  into  hers,  were  they  not  most  unlike  those  of  a 
lover  speaking  to  an  indifferent  person  of  the  woman  that 
he  loved  ? 

The  color  fluttered  to  her  face.  A  strange  look,  half- 
curiosity,  half-pleasure,  stole  over  Paul's. 

"  You  refuse  my  gift  wholly  and  without  reserve,  Miss 
Fleming  ?  " 

"I  —  I  —  oh,  Mr.  Chichester,  I  am  so  fond  of  flowers ! " 
And  she  took  them,  and  raised  them  to  her  face. 

No  subtle  odor  in  the  old  home-garden  on  breathless, 
autumn  nights,  no  fragrance  of  fresh  woods  —  even  wan- 
dering in  their  cool  shades  with  Oliver  —  had  ever  smote 
her  sense  with  keenest  delight  as  did  the  faint  perfume  of 
these  few  hot-house  flowers  in  the  hot  atmosphere  of  Mrs. 
Strangways'  drawing-room.  She  smelt  the  jessamine 
again  upon  the  balcony  at  Weymouth.  She  saw  the 
stars  shining  on  her  through  the  soft  purple  of  the  night. 
She  looked  at  the  moon  which  had  travelled  away  so  far 


236  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

above  the  silent  sea,  and  knew  that  she  too  had  travelled 
far  from  the  land  of  childish  peace,  and  was  standing 
with  a  wonder,  half-pain,  half-rapture,  upon  the  shore  of 
actual  life  and  actual  passion  ! 

"  Esther,  you  lazy  creature,"  broke  in  Jane  Dash  wood's 
voice  close  behind  her,  "  this  is  the  second  dance  that  you 
and  Paul  are  sitting  out  together.  I  really  cannot  allow 
such  things  when  you  are  under  my  protection.  You 
must  get  up  and  dance,  merely  to  save  appearances. 

"  But,  my  dear  Jane,  you  know  I  don't  care  for  dan 
cing." 

"  That  doesn't  matter.  If  people  sit  out  in  Bath  they 
are  more  talked  about  than  if  they  dance  any  number  of 
times  together;  and  it  would  be  too  trying  to  my  feelings 
if  Paul  was  to  get  himself  talked  about.  Mr.  Chichester, 
will  you  ask  Miss  Fleming  for  this  waltz  ?  " 

Miss  Dashwood  was  looking  wonderfully  handsome  ; 
her  cheeks  flushed  scarlet,  her  blue  eyes  full  of  light ;  for 
she  was  taking  Arthur  Peel's  arm,  and  her  ears  were 
drinking  in  all  the  poison  of  his  most  tender  whispers. 
He  had  duly  gone  through  the  ponderous  duty  of  one  fast 
dance  with  Miss  Lynes,  and  was  now  contrasting  her  hea- 
vy tread  and  cumbrous  waist  with  Jane's  light  little  form 
and  graceful  supple  movements.  "  It  is  like  riding  a  thor- 
oughbred after  galloping  on  a  dray-horse,  Jenny,"  he  had 
whispered  to  his  partner  in  the  first  turn  of  the  waltz. 
"No  wonder  such  an  exquisite  simile  had  made  poor  Jane's 
eyes  light  up  with  pleasure,  although  she  knew  full  well  that 
Arthur  had  done  his  best  to  make.  Miss  Lynes  smile  upon 
him  during  every  moment  that  he  had  danced  with  her.  „ 

"  Mr.  Chichester,  did  you  hear  my  request  ?  Will  you 
ask  Miss  Fleming  for  this  waltz  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  whether  Miss  Fleming  waltzes,"  said 
Paul,  looking  at  Esther.  "  If  she  does,  I  shall  be  delight- 
ed to  become  her  partner." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  237 

Esther  had  never  danced  except  with  the  girls  at  school, 
and  she  had  a  vague  feeling  that  it  would  be  wrong  for 
her  to  begin  any  wider  experiences  during  Oliver's  ab- 
sence. 

"  You  know  I  don't  dance  much,  Jane.  I  only  learnt 
six  months,  and  I  am  not  at  all  sure  of  getting  well  through 
this  awfully  quick  pace  that  everyone  seems  to  go  at." 

"  Then,  if  you  have  never  waltzed,  don't  begin  now," 
said  Paul  quickly.  "  There  are  advantages  in  sitting  out 
quietly,  which  those  people  who  rush  through  the  night 
at  the  rate  of  a  dozen  miles  an  hour  cannot  at  all  appre- 
ciate." 

Jane  Dash  wood  shrugged  her  pretty  shoulders  and  then 
whirled  away  with  Arthur  Peel.  She  knew  instinctively, 
better  than  Esther  did  the  meaning  that  lay  in  Paul's 
words,  and  how  soon  he  and  his  companion  would  find 
that  they  suited  each  other.  Did  the  thought  give  her 
pain  ?  Not  an  approach  to  the  anguish  which  any  defal- 
cation, even  the  slightest,  of  Arthur's  cost  her,  but  some 
faint  pangs  notwithstanding.  Mock  though  his  alle- 
giance had  been,  she  had  held  sway  over  Paul  Chichester, 
had  known  him  listen  for  half  an  evening  contentedly  to 
her  lively  chatter ;  and  there  was  too  much  of  coquetry 
engrained  among  the  better  qualities  of  Jane  Dashwood's 
heart  for  her  to  look  on  at  the  secedance  'of  any  one  out 
of  her  dozen  vassals  without  displeasure. 

"  You  are  all  taking  to  the  heavy  style,"  she  remarked  to 
Arthur  Peel  in  the  next  interval  of  the  waltz.  "  You  to 
Miss  Lynes,  Paul  to  poor  Esther.  Milly  and  I  will  have 
no  chance  left,  unless  we  can  add  a  few  cubits  to  our  stat- 
ure, and  half  a  hundred  weight  or  so  to  our  bulk." 

"  '  Poor  Esther  '  looks  doosed  well  "  Mr.  Peel  remark- 
ed. I  never  thought  anything  of  her  before,  but,  by  Jove, 
if  she  was  a  little  more  animated  you'd  all  have  to  look 
out,  Miss  Dashwood.  I  never  saw  a  finer  set  head  and 


238  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

shoulders  in  my  life,  and  your  friend  Paul  seems  to  think 
so  too." 

Now  it  is  quite  impossible  for  me  to  state  with  certain- 
ty what  opinions  Mr.  Chichester  was  forming.  I  may 
say,  however,  that  he  had  a  tolerably  fair  opportunity  of 
arriving  at  the  conclusions  assigned  to  him  by  Arthur 
Peel.  On  the  plea  of  gaining  greater  quiet  he  had  per- 
suaded Miss  Fleming  to  move  to  a  kind  of  small  con serva-, 
atory,  or  alcove,  leading  out  from  the  drawing-room, 
dimly  lighted  as  Mrs.  Strangways  knew  how  to  light,  and 
where  soft-falling  crimson  velvet  draperies  showed  forth 
in  delicate  relief  one  or  two  marble  statues  of  rare  excel- 
lence grouped  in  the  centre. 

The  dim  light,  the  simple  lines  of  falling  drapery  suited 
Esther's  style  of  face  admirably,  better  than  all  the 
glare  and  brilliancy  of  the  ball-room.  Paul  noted,  as  he 
had  not  done  before,  the  noble  contour  of  cheek  and  throat, 
the  broad  soft  brow,  the  peach-like  texture  of  the  clear 
dark  skin  ;  all  the  charms  which  in  some  quiet  somewhat 
severe  faces  like  Esther's  grow  stronger  with  time  rather 
than  strike  you  on  the  first  occasion  that  you  look  at  them. 
She  had  none  of  Mrs.  Strangways'  queen-like  features 
and  brilliant  decided  coloring ;  none  of  Jane  Dashwood's 
piquant  changing  graces ;  but  Paul  was  just  beginning  to 
see  in  her  a  loveliness  greater  than  either  —  the  loveli- 
ness of  entire  freshness,  both  body  and  soul,  the  loveli- 
ness of  repose,  the  loveliness  of  thought. 

You  could  not  think  of  Mrs.  Strangways  as  she  must 
be  in  a  few  years  hence  without  picturing  to  yourself  the 
wreck  of  a  fair  woman,  well  preserved,  doubtless,  to  the 
last,  but  a  wreck  still.  Jane  Dashwood  owed  every  one 
of  her  attractions  to  bloom  and  youth.  The  little  infan- 
tine features,  the  constant  smile,  the  flitting  color,  all  the 
seductions  of  twenty  would  be  insipid,  if  not  actually 
charmless,  in  another  dozen  years  at  latest. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         239 

But  you  could  think  of  Esther  Fleming  as  beautiful  at 
thirty;  beautiful  with  children  growing  up  round  her; 
beautiful  with  all  her  fresh  youth  and  color  faded,  and, 
with  her  dark  hair  grey.  She  possessed  the  essentials  of 
abiding  beauty  —  eyes  with  love  and  thought  in  them, 
features  rather  grandly  cut  than  soft  or  pretty,  a  com- 
plexion of  perfect  delicacy,  but  not  too  bright  or  fragile 
to  go  through  the  wear  and  tear  of  common  life. 

An  unwonted  feeling  of  peace  came  over  Paul  Chiches- 
ter's  weary  spirit  as  he  looked  at  her.  He  had  never  met 
any  woman  before  whose  beauty  had  not  in  some  sort 
troubled  while  it  charmed  him,  calling  up  vain  spectres 
of  the  youth  and  passion  of  which  his  colorless  life  was 
shorn  !  Esther  alone  soothed  him.  As  he  looked  at  her 
involuntarily  the  painless  years  of  his  long-buried  youth 
came  before  him ;  involuntarily  rose  the  hope  of  some 
nameless  peace  that  the  future  might  hold  in  store  for 
him.  Hope  to  him,  who  had  so  long  given  over  the 
vaguest  shadow  of  hope  If  he  analyzed  this  at  all,  must 
it  not  crumble  into  ashes  in  a  second,  as  all  other  hopes 
had  done  ? 

I  suppose  just  because  the  emotions  they  aroused  were 
intangible  and  vague,  faint  murmurs  of  far-off  happiness 
not  any  present  incarnations  of  vivid  living  pleasure,  did 
Esther's  face  and  voice  sink  quickly  into  Paul's  heart, 
and  he  dared  surrender  himself  to  the  spell  without  any 
of  the  harsh  self-warnings  with  which  he  ordinarily  arm- 
ed himself  against  all  syren  seductions  or  allurements. 
He  thought,  or  believed  he  thought  that  he  would  like  to 
know  Esther  was  engaged ;  that  while  she  undoubtedly 
awakened  thoughts  of  quiet  love  she  was  not  a  woman  to  be 
himself  in  love  with  ;  that  if  friendship  were  ever  possible 
with  a  girl  of  eighteen  it  would  be  so  for  Esther  Fleming 
He  thought  all  this,  and  looked  more  closely  at  Esther 
Fleming's  delicate  drooping  profile,  and  long  dark  lashes, 


240  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

and  young  round  cheek,  surrendering  himself,  I  must  con- 
fess, to  the  perilous  pleasure  of  this  analyzation  with  such 
thorough  good-will,  that  before  half  an  hour  had  past  ev- 
ery one  in  the  room  was  saying  how  shamefully  Jane 
Dashwood  had  been  thrown  over  again,  and  how  Mr. 
Cbichester  had  just  made  some  new  girl  an  offer  behind 
the  curtains  in  the  back  drawing-room. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Fleming,  I  like  to  think  of  you  as  not  waltz- 
ing." They  were  on  the  same  theme  still.  Nothing  is 
more  significant  of  on-coming  liking  than  when  the  most 
trivial  subject  takes  so  long  to  exhaust.  "There  are  just 
one  or  two  people  in  the  world  whom  one  likes  to  believe 
unsophisticated  and  fresh.  Now  all  freshness  must,  by 
the  inevitable  sequence  of  natural  laws,  be  gone  from  any 
woman  who  has  been  pressed  and  jostled  through  a  few 
hundred  or  a  few  score  —  yes,  or  one  such  a  crowd  as  we 
are  looking  at  now." 

"  That  is  a  very  sweeping  condemnation  of  yours.  All 
girls  dance,  except  some  very  few  like  myself  who  have 
been  brought  up  in  the  wilds  of  the  country  all  their 
life." 

"  Then  those  few  are  the  only  ones  whose  hearts  can 
be  fresh.  There  are  some  feelings  as  fragile  as  the  flowers 
all  these  young  ladies  wear  on  their  breasts,  and  which 
are  heated,  and  withered,  and  broken  by  the  close  pressure 
of  the  first  waltz.  Such  flowers  don't  get  fresh  again, 
however  pure  the  air  and  water  may  be  you  give  them 
next  day." 

"  No,  but  young  ladies  are  really  not  as  susceptible  as 
flowers,  Mr.  Chichester.  Of  course  it  is  very  pretty  and 
romantic  to  think  they  are;  but  I  should  think,  in  plain 
truth,  most  of  the  girls  we  see  here  go  through  their 
waltzes  and  galops  without  thinking  of  what  they  are  do- 
ing or  of  their  partners  either.  Waltzing  is  the  business 
of  their  life,  neither  less  nor  more." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        241 

"  Exactly,  you  could  not  express  their  condition  more 
clearly;  but  how  many  phases  must  they  have  gone 
through  before  arriving  at  a  stage  in  which  a  score  of 
successive  crushes,  and  a  score  of  successive  men  to  sup- 
port them  through  the  crushes,  awaken  no  other  sensation 
than  that  of  going  about  any  ordinary  business?  The 
flowers  don't  wither  any  more  because  there  is  no  more 
life  in  them.  Those  natural  unsubstantial  ones  that  the 
first  ball  or  two  dried  up  for  ever,  are  replaced  by  good 
artificial  ones,  no  longer  perfumed  or  fragile,  but  showy 
and  well  painted,  and  an  excellent  imitation  of  nature, 
and  warranted  not  to  suffer  in  any  way  under  any  cir- 
cumstances in  which  they  may  be  placed.  Now,  my  own 
tastes  are  singular,  perhaps,  but  I  see  more  beauty  in  one 
little  tuft  of  purple  thyme  from  the  moors  than  in  all 
these  Paris-made  roses  and  lilies  that  fill  Mrs.  Strangways* 
rooms." 

"  So  do  I,  Mr.  Chichester ;  but  though  I  can't  argue,  I 
feel  what  you  sny  about  dancing  is  not  quite  fair.  If  I 
had  lived  in  a  town,  like  the  Dashwoods,  I  should  have 
got  to  like  waltzing  from  the  time  I  was  fourteen,  as  they 
have,  and  yet  I  don't  believe  I  should  have  been  the 
whited  sepulchre  that  your  nice  little  metaphor  implies. 
I  know  I  should  not,"  Miss  Fleming  added  in  rather  an 
indignant  tone.  "  I  could  join  in  the  dancing  this  mo- 
ment, and  not  be  any  the  worse  for  it  at  the  end  of  the 
evening." 

"  Possibly,"  said  Paul  coolly ;  "  there  are  some  excep- 
tional natures  against  which  evil  glances  without  wound- 
ing, but  it  is  better  not  to  have  met  the  stroke  at  all. 
I  would  like  to  know  through  what  hands  even  my  tuft 
of  wild  thyme  had  passed  before  it  came  into  mine." 

Involuntarily  Esther  looked  full  round  upon  him,  and  in 
the  honest  blood  that  rose  up  and  spoke  out  of  Oliver  in 
her  face,  there  was  a  confession.  Paul  read  it  in  that  full 
11 


242  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

gaze,  in  that  flush  of  childish  shame,  and  he  read  it  aright ; 
read  it  as  few  men  of  his  age  similarly  placed  would  have 
done. 

"  And  if  it  was  not  for  me  at  all,  Miss  Fleming,  if  it  was 
kept  by  the  hand  that  first  plucked  it,  I  could  find  infinitely 
more  refreshment  in  the  one  breath  I  was  allowed  to  have 
of  this  piece  of  wild  thyme  than  in  being  permitted  free  pos- 
session of  any  hot-bed  flowers  here.  Look  at  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways  "  —  he  interrupted  himself  rather  abruptly —  "how  > 
long,  I  wonder,  is  it  since  her  wild  thyme  days  ?  Had 
she  ever  any  ?  It  is  difficult  to  think  of  such  a  look  hav- 
ing ever  risen  on  her  face  as  came  up  on  yours  just  now, 
Miss  Fleming." 

"I  can't  conquer  my  dislike  to  Mrs.  Strangways,  though 
I  can  give  no  reason  for  feeling  it,"  said  Esther,  glad  to 
escape  to  less  interesting  but  more  neutral  ground  again. 
"  Look  at  her  manner  as  she  stands  there  looking  into  Ar- 
thur Peel's  face,  and  whispering  to  him,  and  making  him 
hold  her  fan  and  button  her  glove  for  her !  " 

"Miss  Fleming,  don't  be  severe.  You  don't  know  all 
the  secret  turnings,  the  miseries,  the  temptations  of  Mrs. 
Strangways'  life. 

"  I  should  be  sorry  to  know  them.  I  only  think  of  her 
as  Jane  Dash  wood's  associate,  and  I  am  quite  certain  some 
day  she  will  play  Jane  false  if  it  is  in  her  power." 

"  Their  characters  are  very  different  ones,"  said  Paul, 
coolly.  "  Jane  has  no  moral  self-possession,  no  command 
over  either  her  feelings  or  her  temper.  A  sudden  burst 
of  passion,  or  a  sudden  revulsion  of  repentance,  would 
undo  all  her  strongest  resolves  in  a  moment.  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways is  unembarrassed  by  temper  in  any  form.  She 
knows,  intuitively,  the  precise  point  of  strongest  resist- 
ance in  any  thing  or  person  that  she  desires  to  win,  and 
throws  herself  upon  it  without  either  heat  or  noise.  Her 
victories  are  won  in  her  dressing-room,  in  her  own  cool 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          243 

brain,  before  she  attempts  to  win  them  abroad;  and  what- 
ever she  has  set  herself  resolutely  to  conquer  she  conquers. 
Of  course,  Jane  must  lose  in  any  game  where  they  play 
on  different  sides.  Mrs.  Strangways,  in  addition  to  her 
beauty,  is  a  person  of  a  very  high  and  unusual  order  of 
ability." 

"  Don't  ask  me  to  share  in  your  admiration  of  her,  Mr. 
Chichester.  The  only  favorable  thing  I  can  bring  myself 
to  say  of  Mrs.  Strangways  is  that  she  is  beautiful,  extreme- 
ly beautiful,  more  lovely  than  anything  I  ever  saw  before 
out  of  a  picture.  When  I  have  said  so  much  I  must  be 
silent." 

<c  She  is  very  beautiful,"  said  Paul,  and  as  he  spoke  Mrs. 
Strangways  passed  before  them,  and  Esther  saw  that  her 
eyes  and  Chiehester's  met.  "  Beautiful  with  that  fair  lux- 
uriant beauty  which,  as  far  as  mere  physique  goes,  is  al- 
ways, to  me,  the  highest  type  of  all.  I  never  saw  such 
masses  of  real  golden  hair  as  hers  upon  any  other  English 
woman's  head." 

"  And  what  are  the  mental  qualities  you  think  of  so 
high  and  noble  an  order,  Mr.  Chichester  ?  " 

"  Those  we  were  speaking  of  just  now  ;  her  self-reliance, 
her  keen  insight,  her  courage  ;  but  I  don't  think  I  made 
use  of  the  words  grand  or  noble,  Miss  Fleming,  did  I?  " 

"I  am  ignorant  of  the  world,"  cried  Esther,  rather 
hotly.  "  I  am  accustomed  to  think  of,  married  women  as 
satisfied  with  their  children  and  homes.  It  is  repugnant 
to  me  to  see  a  person  of  Mrs.  Strangways'  age  as  eager 
and  athirst  for  admiration  as  a  foolish  girl  of  seventeen." 

"And  you  don't  think  it  possible  that  you  judge  her 
too  severely  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  very  possible,  but  I  know  I  shall  never 
change  in  my  own  opinions." 

"  You  don't,  think  that  strong  natural  tendencies,  that 
years  of  bad  training,  that  unbounded  temptation,  ought 


244  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

to  be  taken  into  account  when  you  pass  judgment  upon 
such  a  character  as  Mrs.  Strang ways'  ?  " 

"I  want  to  pass  no  judgment  at  all.  I  know  what  I 
shall  always  continue  to  think." 

"  Miss  Fleming,  suppose  for  a  moment  that  Mrs. 
Strangways  had  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  a  man,  how 
would  you  judge  her  then  ?  Her  beauty,  conquests,  the 
admiration  she  receives,  are  the  breath  of  her  life  to  her : 
all  that  some  other  kind  of  ambition  would  have  been  to 
her  peculiar  temperament  if  she  had  been  a  man. 
During  the  dozen  years  of  her  youth  this  ambition  of 
hers  has  been  fulfilled  to  the  utmost.  I  suppose  scarcely 
a  woman  living  has  been  more  admired  or  held  more  ab- 
solute sway  over  men  than  Mrs.  Strangways.  Paris, 
Vienna,  London,  even,  have  successively  acknowledged 
hers  as  the  most  beautiful  face  of  its  day.  Well,  at  thirty 
—  an  age,  mind,  at  which  ambition  begins  to  settle  into  a 
more  fixed  passion  than  in  youth  —  Mrs.  Strangways  has 
to  renounce  all  that  she  has  lived  for  hitherto  ;  to  see  her 
victims  chained  to  the  cars  of  younger  conquerers ;  and 
if  she  makes  a  struggle  to  retain  any  place  whatever  in 
the  dominions  where  she  once  reigned  as  queen,  to  be 
called  as  eager  and  athirst  for  admiration  as  a  foolish  girl  of 
seventeen.  Would  you  pity  or  condemn  a  man  called 
upon  in  the  prime  of  his  youth  to  give  up  his  dearest 
hope  in  life  as  Mrs.  Strangways  is  called  upon  to  give  up 
hers  ?  " 

It  was  a  subject  which  most  young  ladies  in  that  room 
could  have  entered  upon  with  the  same  zest,  and  in  the 
same  spirit  of  cool  inquiry  as  inspires  the  writer  of  an 
ordinary  analytical  French  novel  ;  but  Esther  shrank, 
with  unaccountable  shyness,  from  discussing  it  with  Paul. 

u  I  should  never  bring  you  to  think  as  I  do,  Mr.  Chiches- 
ter.  My  ideas  are  too  provincial  and  old7fashioned  to  be 
breathed  aloud  in  such  an  atmosphere  as  Mrs.  Strangways' 
drawing-room." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  245 

"  Then  suppose  we  go  out  to  the  refreshment-room,  and 
argue  the  subject  fairly,"  Paul  suggested.  "I  see  Jane 
Dash  wood  and  Peel  are  there  by  themselves,  but  I  dare 
say  they  are  too  much  taken  up  with  their  own  concerns 
to  listen  to  such  sensible  conversation  as  ours." 

Now  I  am  quite  unable  to  say  whether  the  conversation 
that  took  place  in  the  refreshment -room  during  the  next 
hour  and  a  half  was  sensible  or  not ;  I  can  only  record 
that  Mr.  Chichester  and  Miss  Fleming  seemed  to  derive 
very  intense  interest  from  it ;  that  it  was  renewed  among 
the  geraniums  and  camellias  on  the  landing  after  supper ; 
that  it  was  carried  on  with  unflagging  zest  up  to  the  last 
moment  when  Paul  handed  Esther  into  her  carriage  at 
Mrs.  Strangways'  door. 

"  And  I  maintain,"  said  Milly  Dashwood,  as  they  were 
driving  home,  "  I  maintain  that  for  thorough-going,  steady, 
undeviating  flirtation  our  dear  quiet  Miss  Fleming  goes  in 
with  a  heartier  good-will  than  any  human  being  I  ever 
saw,  Mrs.  Strangways,  you,  Jane,  and  I  and  everybody  else 
included.  Did  you  ever  know  before  that  Paul  had  it  in 
him  to  look  as  he  has  looked  to-night?  Positively  I 
heard  some  one  say  he  was  the  handsomest  man  in  the 
room." 

"  I  never  saw  Paul  look  really  interested  before,"  an- 
wered  Jane :  but  there  was  a  slight  shade  of  bitterness 
in  her  voice.  "  I  told  him  just  as  we  left,  with  five  or  six 
people  listening,  that  he  and  I  were  engaged  no  longer ; 
and  the  way  in  which  he  acted  the  part  of  an  injured  lov- 
er was  faultless.  Nothing  brings  a  man's  faculties  out 
like  finding  for  the  first  time  that  some  one  really  appre- 
ciates him.  Don't  you  think  so,  Esther  ?  " 

But  Miss  Fleming  was  unaccountably  silent,  and  con- 
tinued go  during  all  the  remainder  of  their  homeward 
drive. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

« 

THE    RED-BRICK    HOUSE. 

Miss  FLEMING  threw  away  her  bouquet  —  yes,  every 
flower  that  Paul  had  given  her  —  next  morning:  she  said 
to  herself  that  she  would  dally  with  disloyalty  no  longer, 
would  drive  away  by  force  all  alien  thoughts  or  images  at 
once  and  forever  from  her  breast. 

What  had  she  to  do  with  any  man  but  Oliver  ?  What 
mattered  it  to  her,  an  engaged  woman,  that  Paul  Chiches- 
ter's  voice  was  eloquent,  his  thoughts  akin  to  hers,  his 
face  like  the  little  long-loved  Yandyck  upon  the  wall  at 
Countisbury?  An  honest  sunburnt  face,  not  too  intel- 
lectual, but  set  upon  a  pair  of  stalwart  manly  shoulders, 
a  hearty  boyish  voice  expressing  commonplace,  boyish 
thoughts,  were  the  themes  upon  which  duty  and  honor 
alike  told  her  her  imagination  must  dwell.  Why  had  she 
ever  seen  Paul  ?  — with  a  sigh  this. —  Why  had  she  been 
brought  to  feel  that  such  a  horrible  temptation  as  infidel- 
ity could  ever  come  within  her  reach  ? 

As  she  was  sitting  alone,  Mrs.  Tudor  not  yet  up,  in  the 
cheerless  winter  morning,  vacillating  between  good  in- 
tentions of  writing  a  letter  to  Malta,  and  haunting  regrets 
that  she  had  not  kept  one  poor  little  spray  out  of  Paul's 
bouquet,  a  loud  double  knock  came  at  the  house-door; 
and  in  another  minute  Millicent  Dashwood  ran,  her  face 
beaming  with  excitement,  into  the  room. 

"  Put  your  hat  on,  Esther  ;  I'm  on  the  scent  at  last ; 
put  your  hat  on  at  once.  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is  as  we 
go  along  —  something  about  Paul.  Jane  is  waiting  for 
us  in  the  cathedral  yard ;  and  we  can  go  up  the  short 
way  across  the  hill  to  B ." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  247 

"  But  for  what,  Milly  ?  What  are  we  to  go  to  B 

for,  on  this  particular  uninviting  winter's  morning  ?  " 

"  To  see  Paul  Chichester,  and  find  out  his  secret.  Will 
that  content  you?" 

Apparently  it  did,  for  Esther  ran  upstairs,  and  got 
ready  in  a  very  meek  and  unquestioning  frame  of  mind 
(perhaps  she  thought  the  sharp  winter  morning  would 
brace  her  sufficiently  for  the  effort  of  that  Malta  letter,) 
and  in  another  ten  minutes  was  walking  between  the  two 
Dash  woods  up  the  narrow  frosted  lane  which  led  the 
nearest  way  from  the  city  to  B . 

"  This  is  exclusively  a  scheme  of  Milly's,"  remarked 
Jane,  in  a  dignified  manner,  as  they  emerged  at  length 
into  the  high  road.  "  Mr.  Chichester's  comings  and  goings 
are,  1  beg  distinctly  to  state,  a  matter  of  the  most  perfect 
indifference  to  ma;  and  if  they  were  not,  I  would  not 
stoop  to  looking  after  him  or  any  other  man  in  the  world. 
As  Milly  is  bent,  however,  upon  finding  out  the  destina- 
tion of  all  Paul's  white  flowers,  it  certainly  is  better  that 
we  should  be  here  in  a  body  than  that  the  silly  child 
should  run  after  him  alone." 

"It  would  not  have  deterred  me,  Miss  Dash  wood,  even 
if  you  had  been  too  dignified  to  come,"  cried  Milly,  in 
her  pert  way.  "  At  this  hour  of  the  morning  there's  no 
fear  of  seeing  any  one  but  the  victim  himself;  and  I 
could  carry  off  my  part  quite  well  enough  with  Paul  to 
prevent  him  from  even  thinking  I  was  looking  after  him." 

Esther  stopped  suddenly. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say,  Jane,  that  we  are  following 
Mr.  Chichester  ?  Milly,  you  never  told  me  this.  If  he 
was  to  see  me  —  to  see  us,  I  mean  —  what  would  he  say 
of  us  ?  I  don't  think  I  can  go  any  further."  And  then 
she  blushed  crimson. 

You  can  imagine  the  outpouring  of  Dashwood  irony 
at  this  exhibition  of  shyness,  the  little  reminiscences  of 


248  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Mrs.  Strang  ways'  conservatory,  the  speculations  as  to 
whether  talking  to  one  man  during  an  entire  evening,  or 
taking  an  early  country  walk  for  the  good  of  one's  health, 
involved  the  greater  amount  of  moral  delinquency  ?  To 
escape  it  all,  Esther  felt  that  she  would  go  anywhere,  spy 
anybody's  actions  —  even  Paul's.  "I  don't  care  about 
Mr.  Chichester  seeing  me,"  she  remarked,  after  walking 
on  passively  and  in  silence  for  some  minutes,  "you  know 
that  very  well.  I  only  thought,  from  what  you  said,  that 
he  knew  Milly  meant  to  watch  him." 

"It  would  not  disturb  my  peace  of  mind  if  he  did,'' 
cried  Miss  Milly.  "  I  haven't  any  of  the  fine  feelings 
about  Mr.  Chichester  that  everyone  else  seems  to  possess 
to  such  an  alarming  extent.  If  Paul  Chichester,  or  Ar- 
thur Peel,  or  anybody  I  happen  to  know,  acts  one  kind 
of  life  and  carries  on  another,  I  like  to  come  to  the  real 
meaning  of  it  all  — voild  tout.  If  Mr.  Chichester  pays  de- 
voted attention  to  Esther  Fleming  up  till  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  and  then  at  eleven  in  the  forenoon  is  seen 

carrying  a  bouquet  of  flowers  to  some  lady  at  B ,  I 

gay  appearances  are  against  him,  and  it  is  the  duty  of 
society  to  get  up  the  best-organized  evidence  possible  for 
the  future  hearing  of  the  case." 

"  And  —  and  —  he  really  has  been  seen  with  these 
flowers  again,  then  ?  "  Miss  Fleming  asks,  faintly. 

"  Seen  this  morning  with  a  superb  bouquet,  Esther  dear 
—  heaths,  azaleas,  camellias  —  everything  far  better  than 
he  took  for  you  —  or  Jenny  ;  which  was  it  ?  —  last  night 
As  soon  as  I  saw  him  pass  from  our  back  drawing-room 
window,  I  put  on  my  hat  and  ran  off  for  you,  like  a  true 
friend ;  and  now  you  may  depend  upon  it  we  have  fairly 
got  the  wretched  criminal  in  our  toils.  He  always  goes 
tip  the  hill  by  the  high  road,  and  never  extends  his  walk 
beyond  the  second  milestone.  I  heard  that  much  from 
his  own  lips  the  other  day.  And  unless  he  goes  about 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         249 

five  miles  round  through  the  woods,  he  must  return  by 
this  road.  What  a  general  of  armies  I  should  have 
made !  " 

Persons  possessed  of  that  inferior  order  of  tact  that 
arises  from  the  head,  not  the  heart,  like  Miss  Millicent 
Dashwood,  generally  succeed,  I  have  observed,  in  the 
small  undertakings  of  life.  After  walking  slowly  up  and 
down  one  half-mile  of  road  for  about  three  quarters  of  an 
hour,  Milly's  generalship  culminated  in  success.  Paul 
Chichester,  utterly  unconscious  that  he  was  being  watch- 
ed, appeared  in  sight  round  a  belt  of  fir-trees,  which,  at 
about  two  hundred  yards'  distance,  formed  the  turning  of 
the  road. 

"  And  after  all  we  never  saw  what  house  he  came  from  ! " 
cried  Milly.  "  Just  like  my  wretched  luck !  If  we  had 
been  five  minutes  sooner  we  should  have  commanded  a 

view  of  every  house  between  this  and  B .  However, 

we  must  do  the  best  we  can  —  give  Paul  as  much  rope  as 
possible,  and  afterwards  make  out  who  lives  in  all  the 
houses  nearest  this  way.  Please  don't  blush  so  alarming- 
ly, Esther,"  she  added,  when  they  were  within  a  few 
yards  of  Paul.  "  Mind,  if  you  feel  guilty,  I  do  not.  I  am 
taking  an  early  walk  on  the  hills  for  my  health,  and  if 
sore  pressed  have  a  mythical  pot  of  currant-jelly  in  my 
pocket  for  one  of  mamma's  Sunday  scholars  —  mythical 
also  —  who  resides  upon  the  common." 

And  Milly,  and,  indeed,  Jane  too,  put  on  a  little  air  of 
utter  girlish  unconsciousness  as  they  approached  that 
would  have  deceived  a  much  more  cynical  and  suspicious 
observer  than  Paul  Chichester.  Had  they  not  been  trained 
to  act  under  every  description  of  circumstance  which  a 
young  woman's  life  can  impose  upon  her  ?  Trained  in  the 
highest  histrionic  school  of  all  —  religious  hypocrisy  as  lit- 
cle  children ;  trained  in  mock-modesty  and  real  assurance 
as  school-girls ;  trained  as  grown-up  women  in  every  sub- 
11* 


250  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

terfuge  and  artifice  of  social  life  ?  As  Esther  glanced  at 
them  now  and  felt  with  painful  consciousness  the  blush- 
es of  her  own  guilt-betraying  face,  she  felt  how  fearfully 
far  behind  her  savage  bringing  up  had  left  her  in  this,  as 
in  so  many  other  of  the  first,  common  amenities  of  civili- 
zation. 

"You  are  out  early,  young  ladies,  walking  off  the  ef- 
fects of  your  last  night's  dissipation,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Milly  and  I  are  always  early  walkers  !  "  answered 
Jane,  coolly.  "As  to  Esther,  I  believe  five  o'clock  is  her 
normal  hour  for  starting  with  cousin  David  upon  the  Dev- 
onshire wilds.  The  wonder  is,  seeing  you,  Paul !  I 
thought  eleven  was  the  earliest  hour  at  which  any  young 
man  of  the  present  day  could  ever  think  of  encountering 
the  fatigues  of  breakfast. 

"But  I  am  not  a  young  man,"  answered  Paul.  "I  am 
not  young,  I  am  not  fashionable,  and  the  duties  of  my 
life  force  me,  of  necessity,  to  be  an  early  riser. 

Something  in  the  tone  of  his  voice  made  Esther  turn 
-. —  she  was  gazing  intently  at  one  of  the  leafless  hedge- 
rows until  now  —  and  look  at  him  full. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  any  man  wearing  less 
the  air  of  a  lover  who  has  just  quitted  his  mistress  than 
Paul  Chichester  did  at  that  moment.  Years  seemed  add- 
ed to  him  since  they  had  parted  not  ten  hours  ago  at  Mrs. 
Strang ways'  house  —  years  charged  with  the  burden  of 
dark  and  heavy  life.  His  face  was  fearfully  pale  ;  his  eyes 
heavy  ;  his  dress  uncared-for. 

"  Have  you  been  for  a  very  long  walk,  Mr.  Chichester  ? 
asked  Milly,  in  her  childish  little  tone.  "  I  think,  but  I 
am  not  quite  sure,  I  saw  you  pass  by  the  back  of  our 
house  this  morning." 

"Yes;  I  was  on  my  way  to  B then,"  answered 

Paul,  quietly.  "  It  is  my  daily  walk  when  I  am  in  Bath. 
Have  you  recovered  from  last  night's  exertion,  Miss 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          251 

Fleming  ?  I  need  hardly  ask,  though."  And  his  eyes 
told  Esther  what  he  thought  of  her  looks. 

"I  don't  know  what  Miss  Fleming's  exertions  were, but 
listening  to  Mr.  Chichester,"  cried  Milly. 

"  Listening  to  Mr.  Chichester  and  consuming  an  ice  very 
slowly  every  hour  and  a  half,  and  supporting  herself  un- 
der the  weight  of  Mr.  Chichester's  flowers.  By-the-by, 
Paul  —  it  was  a  common  habit  of  the  Miss  Dashwoods  to 
call  every  man  they  know  by  his  Christian  name  — 
"  where  do  you  get  all  your  flowers  from  ?  Do  white 
azaleas  and  camellias  spring  up  unbidden  beneath  your 
feet  in  January,  or  are  you,  after  all,  a  Rothschild  in  dis- 
guise ?  The  latter,  I  suspect.  Such  a  bouquet  as  I  saw  in 
your  hands  about  two  hours  ago  could  not  have  been 
bought  under  —  well  seven  and  sixpence  at  least." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  think  that  I,  or  anything  I  do,  can 
inspire  Miss  Millicent  Dash  wood  with  interest,"  said 
Paul ;  but  Esther  noted  that  his  lip  trembled  a  very  little 
as  he  spoke.  "  Hothouse  flowers  cannot  be  got  for  noth- 
ing in  January,  Miss  Milly,  and  I  am  not  a  Rothschild  in 
disguise,  but  a  poor  devil  who  often  does  not  know  how 
he  will  get  his  dinner  from  day  to  day,  and  whose  tailor's 
bill  —  well,  I  leave  you  to  judge  what  that  would  be  —  if 
it  were  ever  paid  !  " 

And  Paul  held  out  his  arm  and  ostentatiously  display- 
ed a  sleeve  whose  texture  the  term  "  ,threadbare  "  would 
be  scarcely  adequate  to  represent. 

"  I  don't  see  that  we  have  got  any  answer  about  the 
flowers,  though,"  said  Jane  rather  maliciously.  "Although 
my  right  to  question  you  is  over,  Paul,  I  must  say  I  think 
it  intensely  mysterious  where  all  these  lavishly-delicious 
bouquets  go  every  day  ;  don't  you,  Esther  ?  " 

Paul  looked  quickly  into  Esther's  face,  but  she  gave  no 
answer.  With  shame  and  contrition  she  felt  that  to  her 
this  was  no  trifling  matter,  as  it  was  to  the  Dashwoods  ; 


252  THE,   ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

that  her  heart  was  contracted  with  quite  a  sharp  anxiety 
as  she  waited  to  hear  what  extenuation  Paul  could  plead 
for  his  strange  prodigality. 

"  My  flowers  go  to  a  person  who  cares  for  such  things," 
he  remarked,  testily,  as  Esther  gave  no  sign  of  speaking; 
and  there  was  something  in  the  tone  of  his  voice  which 
might  have  told  even  Millicent  Dash  wood  she  had  best 
ask  no  more.  "  To  a  person  who  cares  for  such  things  — 
a  person  to  please  whom  I  consider  no  sacrifice  ridicu- 
lous." And  an  ominous  red  rose  in  Paul's  dark  face. 

"  Then  they  are  all  for  one  person  !  "  cried  out  Milly, 
clapping  her  hands.  "I  was  sure  of  it!  Don't  be  angry, 
you  good  old  Paul ;  we'll  promise  never  to  tell  a  creature 
anything  about  it,  only  for  you,  who  have  always  pretend- 
ed to  be  so  staid  and  wrapped  up  in  yourself  and  nobody 
else !  I  declare,  as  long  as  I  live,  I  shall  always  credit 
every  confirmed  old  bachelor  I  know  with  some  wild  ro 
mance  of  mystery  after  this." 

"  And  you  call  Paul  an  old  bachelor,  you  silly  child  ?  " 
said  Jane.  "  He  will  hardly  thank  you  for  that." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  answered  Paul.  "  I  am  almost  thirty  al- 
ready (and,  to  Miss  Millicent  that  is  as  old  as  forty  or  fif- 
ty,) and  I  am  so  resolutely  determined  upon  continuing 
as  I  am  now  all  my  life,  that  she  is  perfectly  right  in  look- 
ing upon  me  and  calling  me  what  I  very  soon  shall  be  — 
a  confirmed  old  bachelor." 

Then  pride  or  some  other  feeling  made  Esther  speak  at 
last. 

"  Do  you  like  this  weather,  Mr.  Chichester  ?  "  And  her 
voice  was,  or  she  intended  it  to  be,  as  thoroughly  calm 
and  indifferent  as  though  she  had  taken  no  part  or  inter- 
est in  any  of  their  conversation.  "To  me  it  is  the  worst 
kind  of  winter's  day  possible  —  cold  and  dull  and  deso- 
late. It  suits  this  scene  well.  What  sort  of  people,  I  won- 
der, can  choose  to  live  in  such  a  road  as  this  ?  " 


THE  ORDEAL  FOX  WIVES.         253 

And  in  spite  of  herself  she  really  did  shudder  as  she 
looked  along  the  dreary  road  down  which  Paul  had  even 
now  come. 

"Yes,  I  wonder,"  cried  Milly,  nothing  daunted  in  her 
own  intentions.  "  Paul,  what  sort  of  people  live  out  here  ? 
There  are  no  gentlemen's  houses  at  all  that  I  can  see,  ex- 
cept that  red-brick  one  away  on  the  left.  Who  lives  there, 
do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least." 

"And  in  the  little  white  terrace  that  we  see  in  the  dis- 
tance." 

"That  white  terrace  contains,  as  far  as  I  can  guess  from 
here,  eight  or  ten  houses,"  said  Paul.  "Do  you  expect 
me  to  be  acquainted  with  the  names  of  all  their  inmates  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  know  if  you  are  acquainted  with  any  one 
among  them  all  ?  As  Esther  says,  it  awakens  one's  curi- 
osity to  know  what  kind  of  human  creature  could,  of  its 
own  free-will,  come  and  settle  down  and  exist  by  the  side 
of  such  a  road  as  this."  , 

"  Then  I  regret  to  say  that,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
your  curiosity  must  remain  unsatisfied.  I  know  no  more 
than  you  do  of  the  place  or  of  its  inhabitants  either.  Young 
ladies,  good  morning  to  you.  I  have  already  kept  you 
too  long  standing  here  in  the  cold." 

And  after  just  lifting  his  hat,  but  without  offering  to 
shake  hands  with  any  of  them,  Mr.  Chichester  turned 
round  abruptly  and  walked  away. 

Milly  was  loud  in  her  delight  at  the  success  of  her  own 
scheme. 

"  The  thing  is  all  as  plain  as  possible.  What  should  he 
have  been  in  such  a  rage  for  except  at  seeing  that  we  had 
found  him  out?  Now,  the  next  thing  to  ascertain  is, 
what  kind  of  people  live  up  here  ?  grandes  dames  or  demi- 
monde f  I  made  a  rapid  calculation  as  we  were  talking 
to  him,  Jenny,  and  frcm  the  short  time  that  had  passed 


254  THE  ORDEAL  FOR 

since  we  last  turned  by  the  fir-trees,  I  am  convinced  he 
could  only  have  come  out  of  one  of  the  houses  just  be- 
yond the  turnpike.  The  thing  is  to  make  out  who  lives 
in  them.  Half-and-half  people  are  just  the  ones  it  is  so 
difficult  to  get  at  the  truth  about." 

"  And  what  right  have  we  to  find  out  anything  in  the 
matter  ?  "  cried  Esther,  hotly.  "  I  for  one,  declare  that  I 
have  no  interest  whatever  in  Mr.  Chichester's  private  life, 
and  that  I  decline  assisting  in  any  way  at  attempting  to 
solve  what  he  chooses  shall  be  hidden.  What  he  said  on 
the  subject  was  quite  enough,  I  think,  to  make  us  feel  that 
we  should  let  it  rest.  He  may  be  engaged,  he  may  be 
married,  as  you  suggested  the  other  day,  Milly,  but, 
whatever  it  is,  he  evidently  has  some  secret  he  chooses 
to  keep,  and  which  none  of  us  have  the  slightest  right  to 
investigate." 

Jane  Dashwood,  quickly  mutable  in  little  as  in  great 
things,  came  round  in  a  moment  to  Esther's  way  of  think- 
ing. "I'm  ashamed  to  feel  what  mean  things  you  and  I 
are  always  doing,  Milly,  though,  if  the  truth  is  told,  I  do 
them  more  to  get  rid  of  another  two  or  three  hours  of 
life  than  out  of  real  intrinsic  meanness  !  Let  us  give  up 
Paul  and  his  mystery  now  and  forever.  It's  twelve  al- 
ready, and  I've  got  to  dress  and  be  at  Mrs.  Strangways 
for  luncheon  at  two." 

"  To  meet  Arthur  and  Miss  Lynes,  Jenny  ?  You  must 
remember  I  haven't  got  great  interests  in  life,  like  you,  to 
save  me  from  my  own  small,  mean,  inborn  tendencies. 
At  least  you'll  walk  with  me  to  the  turning  of  the  road 
once  more  ?  There  can  be  nothing  dishonorable  in  that, 
can  there,  Miss  Fleming  ?  " 

By  dint  of  persuasion,  or  sheer  pertinacity,  Milly  Dash- 
wood  usually  carried  her  point.  She  got  her  companions 
back  to  the  turning  of  the  road.  She  did  more  ;  she  got 
them  to  stand  by  and  listen  while  she  questioned  a  milli- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  255 

ner  s  girl  returning,  band-box  in  hand,  towards  Bath,  as 
to  the  capabilities  of  the  neighborhood. 

Young  ladies?  no,  there  were  no  young  ladies  in  any 
of  the  houses  hereabout,  leastways  not  to  her  knowledge. 

Where  had  she  been  herself? 

Carrying  a  cap  home  to  old  Miss  Williams,  the  last  de- 
tached white  house  that  you  saw  at  the  winding  of  the 
road. 

And  who  lived  in  the  terrace  of  small  h  ouses  next  ? 

She  didn't  know.  Madame  Helene  only  served  ladies, 
and  she  had  never  had  to  carry  anything  to  such  places 
as  that. 

And  who  lived  in  the  great  red-brick  house  close  at 
hand  ? 

Why,  Dr.  Wilmot,  of  course.  She  thought  every  one 
had  heard  of  Dr.  Wilmot.  Only  yesterday  she  had  car- 
ried up  a  wreath  —  with  a  half-smile  this  —  to  one  of  the 
ladies  at  Doctor  Wilmot's. 

"A  young  lady  ?  "  asked  Milly,  eagerly. 

"Young  ?  Oh  no,  Miss,  at  least  not  that  I  know  of, 
but  I  didn't  see  her  myself.  You  know,  of  course,  miss, 
who  Dr.  Wilmot  is  ?  the  great  mad  doctor  that  people 
come  from  all  over  the  country  to  consult." 

"  Thank  you,  that  will  do.  My  friend  must  live  further 
on.  And  we  have  just  had  our  walk  for  nothing,"  re- 
marked Milly,  when  the  girl  had  left  them.  "  Old  Miss 
Williams,  and  a  row  of  poor  cottages,  and  Dr.  Wilmot, 
the  mad  doctor.  What  a  mean,  disgusting  thing  curiosity 
is,  when  you  begin  to  find  out  that  you  can't  satisfy  it." 

They  turned  round  at  once  towards  Bath,  and  in  anoth 
er  minute  the  Dash  woods  had  forgotten  Paul's  existence, 
and  were  entering,  heart  and  soul,  into,  the  dissection  of 
some  other  person's  private  and   personal  history.     But 
when  they  reached  the  belt  of  firs  that  marked  the  wind 
ing  of  the  road,  Esther  turned   and  glanced  across  that 


256  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WI^ES. 

cluster  of  houses  one  of  whose  thresholds  Paul's  step 
must  have  crossed  not  many  minutes  before. 

Long  afterwards  she  remembered  every  outline  of  that 
fiozen  silent  landscape;  remembered,  with  a  shudder  of 
pain,  one  lonely  red-brick  house,  standing  out,  dark  and 
desolate,  against  the  leaden  winter  sky  ! 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

FOREWARNED. 

DOES  not  some  horrid  realistic  Frenchman,  but  one  who 
understands  the  anatomy  of  such  things,  say  that  every 
present  lover  has  at  least  twenty  chances  to  one  in  his  fa- 
vor against  every  absent  one  ? 

These  mean  little  Gallican  aphorisms  have  not  an  exalt- 
ing effect  in  the  view  they  give  one  generally  of  human 
character;  but  their  philosophy  contains  an  undeniably 
large  amount  of  truth  in  most  matters  pertaining  to  love. 
Esther  Fleming,  loyal,  honest-hearted,  and  upright  as  she 
was  in  all  other  dealings  of  her  life  —  Esther  Fleming 
found,  at  the  end  of  scarce  another  ten  days,  that  her 
whole  heart  was  becoming  wrapt  up  in  Paul ;  that  at  one 
accustomed  hour  of  the  afternoon  her  ear  listened  greedi- 
ily  for  his  well-known  knock ;  that  her  life  was  very 
blank  from  the  time  when  he  left  upon  one  day  until  her 
hand  was  again  in  his  the  next ;  and  that  the  very  thought 
of  writing  her  letter  to  Malta  was  an  exertion  not  to  be 
contemplated  without  fatigue,  almost  —  but  this  she  did 
not  yet  acknowledge  —  with  positive  and  strong  repug- 
nance. 

Of  course  if  Paul  had  been  absent  and  Oliver  present 
it  would  have  been  otherwise.  Paul,  grave,  reticent,  in- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  257 

tellectual,  was  precisely  a  man  of  whom  Esther's  girlish 
imagination  could  have  made  much  in  absence,  while  poor 
Oliver  was  very  much  more  favorably  represented  by  his 
own  handsome,  lively,  open-hearted  presence  than  by  any 
of  Esther's  lonely  thoughts  concerning  him  and  his  own 
undeniably  commonplace  although  affectionate  letters 
when  he  was  away.  As  things  came  to  her,  however, 
Paul  visiting  her  daily,  Oliver  writing  once  a  fortnight 
ill-spelt  narrations  of  his  Malta  gaieties  and  his  unchange- 
able passion  for  herself,  how  was  Miss  Fleming  to  be  saved 
from  the  horrible  crime  of  seeing  that  she  had  made  a 
great,  an  irrevocable  error  upon  the  threshold  of  her  life. 

Such  matters  are  not  in  young  women's  own  keeping, 
whatever  some  amiable  readers  of  mild  fiction  may  re- 
quire one  to  say.  It  is  a  pleasing  sentiment  that  first 
love  is  the  best,  deepest,  holiest  of  all  our  lives ;  that 
when  a  girl  of  eighteen  shall  have  once  said  "  I  love,"  her 
dictum  is  to  be  immutable  as  that  of  the"Medes  and 
Persians. 

But  like  many  other  pleasing  sentiments,  the  common 
experience  of  common  every-day  life  contradicts  it  flatly. 

The  first  love  of  most  very  young  men  and  women  is  an 
inflated,  artificial,  shallow  mistake,  and  it  is  well,  exceed- 
ing well  for  them  when  the  mistake  culminates  in  infidelity, 
not  marriage. 

I  hold  Esther  Fleming  to  be  quite  above  the  standard 
or  conventional  type  of  young  lady  :  her  love  for  Oliver 
to  have  been  quite  above  the  ordinary  type  of  young 
lady  first  love ;  and  yet  it  was  but  counterfeit,  base  coin, 
an  image,  a  faint  echo  of  the  genuine  abiding  strong  pas- 
sion of  which  her  largely-endowed  nature  was  capable. 

Real  love  needs  time  and  space  for  development.  If 
Esther  had  seen  Paul  first  at  Countisbury  she  would 
probably  have  felt  for  him  what  she  had  felt  for  Oliver, 
only  time  would  have  ripened  the  crude  fruit  into  maturi- 


258  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

ty,  sentiment  into  passion.  As  it  was,  fate  destined  her 
to  imagine  in  one  man  what  she  was  subsequently  to  find 
realized 'in  another,  and  I  rather  think  that  Paul  was  not 
a  loser  by  the  circumstance.  A  sudden  passion,  struggled 
against  and  argued  with,  is  apt  to  be  stronger  than  one 
gradually  unfolding  itself,  in  the  common  course  of  things, 
out  of  the  half-friendly,  half-romantic  beatitudes  of  a  mild 
first  love. 

But  these  heresies,  I  beg  distinctly  to  say,  are  mine, 
not  Esther  Fleming's.  Esther  had  the  most  perfect 
belief  in  all  the  recognized  platitudes,  concerning  the  im- 
possibility of  caring  for  anybody  twice  in  one's  life,  the 
most  thorough  horror  for  people  who  changed.  If  she 
sinned  she  did  not  attempt  to  call  her  sin  virtue.  If  she, 
pledged  to  one  man,  was  growing  passionately  to  love 
another,  she  recoiled  with  repugnance  from  her  own 
frailty. 

And  Paul" saw  that  it  was  so. 

Paul  saw  what  combat  was  passing  in  the  girl's  heart ; 
Paul  knew,  although  she  had  never  told  him  so  in  words, 
that  Esther  Fleming  was  engaged  to  marry  a  man  she 
did  not  love,  and  that  already,  yes  already,  her  face  light- 
ened at  his,  Paul  Chichester's  corning  ;  her  hand  trembled 
when  he  held  it ;  her  breath  faltered  and  sank  as  they  sat 
alone  together,  day  after  day,  in  Mrs.  Tudor's  drawing- 
room  in  the  dangerous  trembling  half-light  of  the  winter 
afternoon. 

Did  he  act  honorably  in  thus  coming  daily  to  see  her  ? 
You  must  judge  him  in  that,  reader.  I  know  that  he 
acted  humanly,  which  is  perhaps  about  as  much  as  one 
can  expect  from  most  men.  His  life  was,  and  had  been 
for  years,  a  sterile  life  lighted  by  only  one  affection,  and 
that  an  affection  which  withheld  him  from  all  other  love, 
from  honest  and  legitimate  love  the  most.  Without  hav- 
ing conceived  anything  of  actual  passion  for  Esther  Flem- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  259 

ing,  he  liked  her  extremely  ;  and  it  is  pleasant,  though  one 
knows  it  cannot  end  in  much  good,  to  see  a  handsome 
young  cheek  flush,  and  dark  eyes  light  at  one's  coming. 
And  she  would  soon  forget  him  when  he  was  gone,  he 
hoped  (he  did  not  hope  so  in  the  least,  be  it  understood, 
but  he  said  to  his  conscience  that  he  did,)  and  then,  no 
doubt,  her  fancy  would  go  back,  poor  child  !  to  its  allegi- 
ance. And  if  there  was  any  danger  in  his  frequent  visits, 
surely  her  natural  protector,  Mrs.  Tudor,  would  be  sensi- 
ble of  it,  and  forbid  him  to  come,  which  she  had  not 
done. 

I  say  he  acted  humanly,  and  precisely  as  I  myself 
would  have  done  ;  first  in  coming  to  see  Esther,  and  after- 
wards in  employing  all  these  small  casuistries  to  set  his 
own  misgiving  at  rest.  But  at  the  same  time  I  respect 
you  immensely  for  thinking  otherwise,  and  I  hope  when 
you  are,  some  time,  placed  in  a  like  position  to  my  hero's 
—  for  Paul  is  my  hero  —  that  you  will  fully  carry  all 
your  fine  Spartan  principles  into  practice. 

Whatever  her  danger,  Esther  was  in  no  lack  of  friend- 
ly fingers  to  point  it  out  to  her.  Mrs.  Tudor  was  a  great 
deal  too  worldly  wise  to  forbid  Paul  the  house,  or  indeed 
to  put  any  outward  or  visible  check  upon  their  growing 
intimacy :  such  weak  preventive  measures  were  wholly 
opposed  to  her  straightforward,  Napoleonic  way  of  at- 
taining her  end.  "  Thrown  too  much  together  ?  stun0 
and  nonsense,  Whitty !  "  she  replied,  when  Whitty  once 
ventured  to  suggest,  as  she  often  did  to  Esther .  herself, 
that  the  girl's  peace  of  mind  might  be  imperilled.  "  Noth- 
ing is  so  ridiculous  to  me  as  to  hear  elderly  people  talk 
that  kind  of  sentimental  twaddle.  If  a  young  woman 
has  been  honestly  brought  up,  and  cornes  of  an  honest 
stock,  like  my  niece,  her  principles  can't  be  endangered, 
I  imagine,  by  Mr.  Chichester's  or  any  other  man's  hand- 
some face.  What  then  ?  her  heart  ?  Bah !  her  heart  must 


260  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

grow  stouter  if  she  is  to  live  in  the  world,  not  a  convent. 
She  may  see  just  as  much  of  Mr.  Chichester  as  she  pleases. 
Nothing  is  better  for  forming  a  young  person's  character 
than  receiving  in  moderation  the  attentions  of  an  educat- 
ed and  handsome  man  whom  she  knows  she  cannot  mar- 
ry. It  increases  her  sense  of  her  own  strength,  and  does 
away,  too,  with  the  ridiculous  school-girl  folly  of  consid- 
ering herself  in  love  with  every  man  who  is  commonly 
civil  to  her." 

"  I  know  you  to  be  no  fool,  child,  and  so  I  let  you  re- 
ceive Mr.  Chichester  alone,"  she  would  say  to  Esther,  in 
her  curt,  crushing  way,  of  an  evening  after  Paul  had  been 
there.  "  Paul  Chichester's  fortunes  are  as  broken  as  his 
coat  is  threadbare,  and  he  comes  of  a  family  in  which 
those  who  are  not  mad  are  spendthrifts ;  but  Paul  Chi- 
chester himself  is  an  undeniably  agreeable  person.  Get 
him  to  read  Italian  to  you  again,  my  love,  by  all  means  ; 
it  is  an  improving  exercise,  and  his  accent  is  first-rate." 

And  if  the  girl's  fancy  had  only  been  aroused,  her  heart 
untouched,  there  was  a  tone  in  the  bland,  half-pitying 
praise  which  would  have  damaged  a  lover's  cause  a  vast 
deal  more  than  putting  him  out  at  the  house  door  and 
forbidding  him  ever  to  cross  the  threshold  again. 

Jane  Dashwood,  too  ('twas  but  human  nature  she  should 
do  so,)  pointed  out  with  vigilance  to  her  friend  the  false 
position  in  which  any  woman  must  place  herself  who 
should  become  seriously  attached  to  Paul.  He  was  poor; 
his  means,  however  derived  —  and  even  that  was  a  mys- 
tery—  were  precarious;  hia  temper  was  fitful,  even  to 
eccentricity ;  he  made  scarcely  any  secret  as  to  the  exis- 
tence of  a  tie  which  withheld  him  alike  from  society  and 
from  the  possibility  of  marrying!  Mrs.  Strangways,  who 
had  been  intimate  with  some  connection  of  his  in  London, 
knew  for  a  fact  that  there  was  something  more  than  com- 
monly suspicious  about  his  way  of  life.  He  did  not  even 


THE  ORDPdL  FOR    WIVES.  261 

give  people  with  whom  he  was  most  intimate  his  real  ad- 
dress. Sometimes  they  would  hear  nothing  of  him  for  a 
month  together.  Sometimes  he  would  be  seen  occupying 
a  stall  at  the  Opera  during  four  or  five  consecutive  weeks  ; 
at  others  would  be  recognized  walking  in  some  remote 
suburb  of  London,  dressed  —  well,  worse,  much,  than  she, 
Jane  Dashwood,  had  ever  seen  him,  and  with  a  person, 
yes,  a  person,  Esther,  actually  leaning  in  broad  daylight 
upon  his  arm.  Was  he,  could  he  be  a  man  on  whom  it 
would  be  anything  less  than  midsummer  madness  to  place 
one's  affections  ? 

And  the  more  Miss  Whitty  warned,  and  Mrs.  Tudor 
sneered,  and  Jane  Dashwood  reasoned,  the  more  did  Es- 
ther Fleming's  heart  become  bound  up  in  Paul.  'Tis  only 
the  poor  emasculated  love  of  artificial  natures  that  will 
ever  be  influenced  ft-om  without.  The  robust  love  of  a 
healthy  organization  can  assimilate  praise  and  dispraise  of 
its  object,  just  as  they  come,  and  derive  equal  nourishment 
to  itself  from  either. 


CU  AFTER  XXVL 

GONE.  . 

"  THIS  is  my  last  evening,  Miss  Fleming.  To-morrow  I 
go  back  to  London  and  to  work.  Well,  I  shall  be  better 
for  my  holiday  —  the  nearest  approach  to  a  real  holiday 
that  I  have  had  during  the  last  nine  years." 

Paul  had  come  to  take  his  leave ;  and,  Mrs.  Tudor  not 
having  returned  yet  from  her  drive,  Esther,  very  nervous 
and  uncertain  in  her  *oice,  was  receiving  him  alone,  and 
trying  to  be  as  unconcernedly  lively  and  commonplace 
as  she  could. 


262  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  I  wonder  whether  you  are  really  as  hard-worked  as 
you  say,  Mr.  Chichester.  Do  you  know  at  times  I  think 
you  are  a  grand  seigneur  in  disguise,  a  Rothschild,  as  Mil- 
ly  said  when  she  was  talking  to  you  about  the  flowers 
that  day  on  the  hill —  do  you  remember?" 

Paul's  face  grew  dark. 

"  I  remember  well,  Miss  Fleming.  I  am  not  likely  to  for- 
get ;  and  you  do  right,  very  right,  to  remind  me  of  it 
now.  God  knows  it's  seldom  I  forget  what  I  am  and 
what  my  bondage  is ;  but  with  you  I  have  forgotten  it, 
—  yes,  Esther,  for  the  last  three  weeks  I  have  let  myself 
dream  of  what  my  life,  differently  ordered,  might  have 
been." 

He  came  close  to  her,  and  looked  with  a  long,  with  a 
painfully  eager  gaze  into  her  eyes. 

"  For  a  short  time  longer,  Esther,  a  short  half-hour,  at 
most,  don't  waken  me !  don't  speak  of —  of  the  mission 
you  saw  me  on  that  bitter  morning.  It  was  a  mission 
wholly  unconnected  with  you,  child  —  a  mission  which, 
in  fact,  cuts  me  off  from  you,  and  everything  else  in  the 
world  worth  living  for.  Esther,  let  me  look  at  you  !  So, 
turn  your  face  round  to  the  window  so  that  the  light  from 
the  lamps  may  rest  on  it.  I  like  to  look  at  you.  I  like 
to  take  in  all  I  can  of  your  face  to-night  —  the  last  night, 
most  likely,  that  you  and  I  will  ever  meet  while  we  live." 

Esther  was  accustomed  to  Paul's  abrupt  transitions  of 
spirits,  to  the  fits  of  fearful  depression  that  were  wont  to 
come  upon  him  without  a  moment's  warning  and  without 
tangible  cause ;  but  she  had  never  heard  him  speak,  had 
never  seen  him  look,  as  he  did  now ;  and  all  her  heart 
came  into  her  voice  as  she  strove  to  give  him  some  in- 
different answer.  Indifferent,  when  she  yearned  to  com- 
fort him !  to  bid  him  tell  her  what  burthen  it  was  that 
darkened  his  life  and  let  her  share  it  with  him,  arid 
it  by  her  tenderest  sympathy ! 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  263 

"I  don't  think  you  need  speak  so  seriously,  Mr.  Chiches- 
ter.  Why  should  we  not  meet  again  after  to-night  ?  I 
may  come  to  stay  in  Bath  with  my  aunt  Thalia  again,  and 
meet  you  as  I  have  done  now." 

"  You  will  not  stay  with  Mrs.  Tudor  when  you  are 
married,  and  I  should  not  care  to  meet  you  even  if  I 
could  do  so.  Our  parting  is  to-night." 

She  turned  from  him ;  she  clasped  her  hands  with  a 
quick  impatient  gesture  that  did  not  escape  Paul's  no- 
tice. 

"  You  may  marry,  too,  Mr.  Chichester.  I  was  speaking 
of  what  is  likely  to  happen  —  not  of  bare  probabilities." 

"Your  marriage  is  not  a  bare  probability,  Esther"  — 
he  fell  into  this  way  of  calling  her  by  her  Christian  name 
with  a  perfect  naturalness  that  made  it  impossible  for  her 
to  notice  it.  "  Be  frank,  for  the  very  short  time  that  we 
shall  see  each  other  now.  You  are  as  certainly  engaged 
to  marry  as  I  am  bound  —  hand  and  foot,  soul  and  body 
—  never  to  change  from  the  state  in  which  I  now  am. 
Tell  me  that  it  is  so.  I  think  you  may  show  that  poor 
degree  of  confidence  in  me  before  we  part.  Tell  me  the 
truth.  I  can  bear  it  better  than  you  think." 

«  I  —  I "  but  then  Miss  Fleming  broke  down. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Paul,  and  forgetting,  I  suppose,  what  he 
did,  he  took  her  hands  into  his.  "Look  upon  me  as  a 
very  old  friend  and  brother,  and  let  me  hear  your  secret." 

"  I  have  been  engaged,  Mr.  Chichester,  I  have  promised 
to  marry  a  good  and  honest  man,  to  marry  him,  and  he  is 
away,  and  if  I  had  been  worthy  of  his  love  I  should  have 
never  changed  —  God  help  me,  as  I  have  changed  within 
the  last  few  weeks  ! " 

She  brought  out  the  first  part  of  this  confession  very 
firm  and  resolute  and  decided ;  but  at  the  last  few  words 
her  voice  faltered  again,  and  Paul  felt  that  the  hands  he 
held  turned  fearfully  cold  and  clammy. 


264  IHE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Esther,  do  you  know  that  this  is  a  moment  of  fierce 
temptation  to  me?  "  he  whispered.  "Do  you  know  that 
if  I  listened  to  what  my  own  heart  is  prompting  me  I 
would  say,  '  Love  me  and  be  mine,  and  let  us  go  to  the 
other  end  of  the  world,  and  forget  duty  and  law  and 
sternest  misery  in  our  love  for  one  another ! ' ' 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Chichester  !  oh,  sir,  you  frighten  me !  "  and 
she  drew  her  cold  hands  away  from  his.  "  I  don't  think  I 
have  given  you  any  right  to  say  such  things  to  me." 

"Esther,  I  don't  say  them.  I  only  tell  you  what  I 
should  say  if  I  listened  to  the  voice  of  the  tempter.  As 
it  is  "  —  he  walked  a  step  or  two  away  from  her,  in  his 
abrupt  way,  and  his  voice  suddenly  seemed  to  lose  all  its 
new-found  warmth  and  tenderness  — "  as  it  is,  I  will  tell 
you  the  real  truth  about  our  relative  positions.  Don't  be 
afraid.  You  will  hear  no  more  nonsense  —  no  more  about 
flying  lo  the  other  end  of  the  world  and  forgetting  duty 
and  everything  else  in  each  other.  I  am  going  to  say  one 
or  two  plain  truths  in  a  very  plain  way.  And  about  you, 
first,  Esther  —  you  forgive  me  this  one  evening  for  calling 
you  so  ?  You  are  very  young,  you  are  very  ignorant  of 
life,  ignorant  of  yourself,  even,  and  of  the  reality  of  your 
own  feelings.  You  think  you  like  me  a  little,  just  at  pre- 
sent. .  .  .  No,  don't  be  indignant ;  hear  me  out,  and  you 
won't  accuse  me  of  overmuch  vanity !  Your  kind  child's 
heart  warms  to  me  because*  I  wear  a  threadbare  coat  and 
because  some  subtle  instinct  tells  you  that  my  life  is  a 
miserable  one.  You  have  known  very  few  people  hither- 
to ;  none,  probably,  with  a  threadbare  coat  and  a  general 
suspicion  of  ill-fortune  like,  mine ;  and  so,  for  the  time 
being,  you  have  made  a  hero  out  of  me  —  a  hero  of  pov- 
erty, Men  entendu  !  Well,  Esther,  in  six  months  —  in  six 
weeks  more  likely  —  you  will  look  back  and  remembei 
Mr.  Paul  Chichester  as  he  really  was,  and  you  will  known 
that  your  heart  has  never  swerved  from  its  first  faith,  and 
in  time  you  will  marry,  and " 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         265 

"  I  have  heard  enough  of  myself  and  of  my  own  feel- 
ings," interrupted  Esther,  hotly.  "  If  you  knew  me  bet- 
ter, Mr.  Chichester,  you  would  not  speak  like  this.  I  am 
not  so  weak  and  childish  as  you  think ! " 

She  looked  handsomer  than  he  had  ever  seen  her,  in 
her  flush  of  indignation,  half  outraged  pride,  half  wound- 
ed tenderness  that  he  should  rate  her  love  so  low.  But 
Paul  dared  not  —  no,  for  his  life  he  dared  not  say  a  word 
to  lead  her  on  to  deeper  confession.  With  all  his  strength 
of  will  could  he  withstand  those  quivering  scarlet  lips  if 
they  confessed  —  there,  close  beside  him  in  the  twilight ! 
that  her  feeling  for  him  was  not  the  passing,  romantic 
fancy  of  a  child  ? 

"  I  have  told  you  your  position,  Esther,  and  you  are 
not  pleased  with  me,  now  I  will  tell  you  mine  ;  there  will 
be  nothing  in  that  that  can,  by  possibility,  offend  you.  I 
am  —  don't  turn  your  face  away ;  the  half-hour  is  going 
fast  —  I  am  a  man  of  already  almost  middle  age,  a  man 
who,  even  in  his  youth,  had  no  share  in  the  common 
pleasures  and  feelings  of  other  ordinary  lives.  I  am 
bound,  Esther,  fast  bound,  to  a  hard  and  colorless  lot, 
from  which  there  is  neither  hope  nor  possibility  of  my  ever 
being  set  free.  Till  about  a  year  ago  I  never  went  be- 
yond the  duties  every  day  brought  to  me.  I  resigned 
myself  with  the  kind  of  patience  that  is  less  virtue  than 
indifference  to  absolute  solitude,  absolute  forgetfulness  of 
the  world  I  knew  when  I  was  a  boy  —  the  world  of  edu- 
cated men  and  women.  Then,  chance  would  have  it  so, 
I  suppose,  I  came  across  Mrs.  Strangways  in  London. 
She  was  introduced  to  me  by  some  old  friend  of  mine,  al- 
most the  only  friend  of  my  youth  whom  I  still  know,  and 
asked  me,  from  caprice,  no  doubt,  to  her  house,  where  I 
first  saw  Jane  Dash  wood.  Shall  I  tell  you  the  rest? 
Shall  I  tell  you  —  after  playing  out  Jane's  petite  comcdie 
12 


266  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

a  feeling  of  passing  amusement  —  all  that  the  last  few- 
weeks  have  made  me  really  feel  ?  " 

She  stood  perfectly  silent  She  could  not  meet  his  ear- 
nest eyes.  She  could  not  trust  her  voice  to  speak. 

"  The  last  few  weeks  have  made  me  feel  that  I  am  hu-  . 
man,  again,  Esther.  I  had  quite  forgotten  what  it  was  to  i 
feel  so,  and  I  think  it  is  wholesome  to  be  brought  back  — 
however  sharp  the  after-suffering  —  to  a  knowledge  of 
what  God  originally  intended  me  to  be.  I  know  that  placed 
altogether  differently,  and  if  I  had  met  you  when  both 
were  free,  I  would  have  asked  you  to  be  my  wife,  and  we 
should  have  worked  out  the  rest  of  our  life  together  well. 
Esther,  don't  grudge  me  the  good  you  have  done  me  !  It 
won't  harm  you,  it  won't  harm  your  husband,  for  you  to 
think,  some  day,  'I  once  knew  Paul  Chichester —  a  poor 
devil  against  whom  life  went  hard  —  and  for  three  weeks 
or  so  I  let  him  see  me  and  waste  his  foolish  heart  upon 
me,  daily,  while  I  —  well,  I  was  very  young,  a  dreaming  ro- 
mantic girl,  and  his  poverty  and  his  misery  touched  me, 
and  I  thought  I  rather  liked  him,  and  was  glad  of  his  so- 
ciety, for  the  time  being.'  This  won't  injure  you,  Esther. 
Imagine  —  but  you  scarcely  can,  for  you  don't,  in  the  least, 
know  what  my  life  is  —  imagine  what  it  will  be  for  me, 
through  the  long  dark  years  that  lie  before  me  till  I  die, 
to  look  back  and  say,  '  One  pure  and  noble  and  unselfish 
woman's  heart  took  an  interest  in  me,  once.  I  have  lived  : 
for  three  weeks  —  out  of  how  many  blank  and  desolate 
years  !  Esther  Fleming  cared  for  me  ! ' ' 

The  sound  of  his  faltering  voice,  the  sight  of  his  agitat- 
ed face,  swept  all  shyness,  all  foregone  resolves,  from 
Esther's  heart.  She  knew  only  that  she  was  standing 
there  beside  the  man  she  passionately  loved ;  listening  to 
a  farewrell  that  she  felt  to  be  an  eternal  one. 

"  I  may  seem  light  and  childish  to  you,  Mr.  Chichester, 
but  I  am  not  so.  I  have  made  one  great,  one  fearful  mis- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  267 

take,  but  it  will  be  my  last.  I  shall  not  change  again,  re- 
member !  I  tell  you  this,  now  that  I  am  parting  from  you, 
and  see  if  I  do  not  keep  my  word  ! " 

"  I  pray  God  that,  whatever  your  life  is,  it  may  be  a 
happy  one !  Child  —  good-bye  !  " 

He  eame  close  :  a  mighty,  well-nigh  irresistible  impulse 
urged  him  to  take  her  to  his  breast  and  let  her  bind  her- 
self to  him  by  words  from  which  she  could  not,  hereafter, 
depart ;  let  her  promise  that  if  she  could  not  marry  him 
she  would,  for  his  sake,  remain  single  while  she  lived. 
He  knew  enough  of  her  character  to  feel  sure  that,  in  a 
moment  of  exaltation  like  this,  such  a  sacrifice  would  not 
be  a  whit  too  high  for  her  to  offer.  And  he  felt  that  he 
was  a  man :  with  all  a  man's  selfishness ;  all  a  man's  nat- 
ural horror  at  giving  up  the  one  thing  he  covets  most  to 
to  possess  into  the  keeping  of  another ! 

It  is  good  to  think  how  human  nature,  in  rare  and  ex- 
ceptional cases,  does  sometimes  shine  forth. 

Paul  clasped  Esther's  hand  closely,  warmly  —  that  he 
he  must  do  after  what  had  passed  between  them  —  but  he 
never  raised  it  to  his  lips,  never  asked  her  for  another 
promise  than  the  one  which  she  herself  had  in  all  inno- 
cence given  him. 

"He  is  of  a  mould  too  heroic,"  cried  the  poor  child's 
heart,  when  five  minutes  later  she  had  watched  Paul's  fig- 
ure fade  in  the  distant  street,  and  desolation  had  closed 
in  upon  her.  "  He  might  at  least  have  heard  me  out 
when  I  would  have  offered  to  give  up  all  my  life  for  him  ! " 

And  then  she  went  up  into  her  room  and  flung  herself 
on  her  knees  before  heaven  and  vowed  while  she  asked 
forgiveness  for  her  infidelity  to  Oliver,  that  she  would 
remain  faithful  to  Paul  Chichester  until  she  died. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


BUT  the  new  love  did  not  set  Miss  Fleming  free  from 
the  old  engagement.  When  the  next  day  came  round, 
bringing  with  it  Mrs.  Tudor  and  her  plans  for  Esther's 
worldly  advancement,  and  the  Dashwoods  with  their 
small  excitements  and  projects  of  immediate  pleasure, 
and,  worse  than  all,  a  long  letter  from  poor  David  full  of 
little  home-news  and  generous  kindly  allusions  to  Oliver 
Carew :  when  the  next  day  came,  bringing  with  it  the  in- 
evitable dull  reaction  that  e very-day-life  must  bring  after 
any  strong  and  vivid  emotion,  Esther  realized,  almost 
with  horror,  the  position  into  which  that  single  half-hour's 
self-devotion  and  self-abandonment  had  betrayed  her. 

One  thing  alone  was  certain :  she  must  break  with  Oli- 
ver Carew  at  once.  Then  rose  the  questions —  what  col- 
oring could  she  give  to  her  change  of  faith  ?  and  by  what 
means  could  she  communicate  the  fatal  news  which,  for 
aught  she  knew  to  the  contrary,  was  to  ruin  Mr.  Carew's 
peace  for  ever. 

In  his  last  letter,  received  only  two  days  before  Paul 
left,  he  had  bidden  her  write  to  him  no  more  at  Malta. 
£Ie  had  just  heard  of  the  dangerous  illness  of  his  uncle, 
and,  in  all  probability,  would  have  to  return  to  England 
by  the  next  mail.  After  this  could  she  venture  to  send  a 
letter  containing  intelligence  so  delicate  addressed  only 
'to  Oliver  Carew,  Esq.,  Poste  Restante,  Valetta,"  as  all 
her  former  letters  to  him  had  been  directed  ?  He  might 
come  to  England,  then  ;  might  be  in  England  now,  on 
his  way  to  Bath  to  see  her;  and  looking  into  his  eyes 
and  witnessing  his  desolation,  she  would  have  to  tell  him 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  269 

that  she  loved  him  no  longer,  had  transferred  her  love  to 
another  man  —  a  man,  too,  who  had  not  sought  her,  and 
whom  as  long  as  she  lived  she  could  never  marry. 

The  thought  that  she  might  at  any  moment  see  Oliver 
thus  weighed  upon  Esther's  spirit  like  a  continual  night- 
mare. She  grew  pale  and  thin  ;  she  started  at  every  knock 
that  came  to  Mrs.  Tudor's  door ;  at  every  step,  almost, 
that  she  heard  upon  the  stairs.  Waking  or  sleeping,  two 
faces  were  ever  before  her.  One,  pale  and  shaken  with 
agitation,  telling  her  of  a  love  that  must  begin  and  finish 
with  its  first  avowal,  the  other,  flushed  with  life  and  hope, 
returning  to  claim  the  promises,  every  one  of  which  her 
heart  had  already  broken. 

"  I  don't  think  your  visit  here  has  done  you  any  good, 
child,"  said  Mrs.  Tudor,  sharply,  one  evening.  They 
were  sitting  together,  dressed,  ready  to  start  for  a  party 
at  the  Dash  woods.  "You  are  looking  white,  and  old, 
Esther ;  are  you  fool  enough  to  be  fretting  about  Paul 
Chichester?" 

Esther  was  kneeling  before  the  fire,  gazing  abstractedly 
among  the  fantastic  forms  of  its  changing  embers,  and 
still  tracing  Paul's  features  or  Oliver's  in  every  momentary 
shape  that  they  assumed.  At  the  sound  of  Mrs.  Tudor's 
voice  she  turned  round  suddenly. 

"  Aunt  Thalia,  you  frightened  me.  T  was  thinking  of 
Paul  Chichester,  though  not  in  the  kind  of  way^that  you 
mean.  I  am  not  fool  enough  for  that." 

"  You  are  right,  child.  Chichester  has  no  money. 
Whoever  marries  to  poverty  is  a  fool,  and  remember  — 
remember  this  always,  remember  that  I  told  you  so  to- 
night—  you  have  a  life  of  poverty  before  you,  Esther. 
You  understand  rne?  " 

"  Perfectly.  I  have  known  it  ever  since  I  could  under- 
stand anything.  Joan  has  brought  me  up  with  no  other 
idea." 


270  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Of  course,  of  course  she  has  done  right ;  "  but  Mrs. 
Tudor  did  not  look  in  her  great-niece's  face,  and  her  hand 
shook  more  than  ordinarily  as  she  applied  herself  to  the 
buttoning  of  her  glove;  "I  never  misled  Joan  nor  any 
one  of  them.  You  mind  that,  girl,  whatever  they  try 
hereafter  to  say  to  you  about  me,  I  never  misled  them 
and  I  don't  mislead  you  now.  Your  life  will  be  one  of 
poverty.  You  must  look  out  for  a  man  with  money,  and, 
although  I  give  you  credit  for  too  much  sense  ever  to  love 
any  man  better  than  yourself,  I  tell  you  that  I  consider 
you  allowed  Paul  Chichester's  attentions  to  go  too  far. 
Nothing  disgusts  a  man  with  money  like  seeing  one  of 
those  meaningless  flirtations  that  you  have  been  carrying 
on  now." 

"  But  there  is  no  man  with  money  to  be  disgusted," 
said  Esther,  with  rather  a  forced  laugh.  "  Who  has  there 
been  in  Bath  to  care  whether  I  have  talked  to  Mr.  Chi- 
chester  or  not  ?  " 

"  There  are  always  men  with  money  everywhere,"  said 
Mrs.  Tudor,  peevishly.  "Young  Langton  was  quite  dis- 
posed to  talk  to  you  at  the  Rooms  on  Monday,  but  you 
had  neither  ears  nor  eyes  for  anything  but  that  poor  mis- 
erable poverty-struck  Chichester." 

"  Aunt  Thalia,  if  Mr.  Langton  had  a  million  a  year  I 
wouldn't  marry  him  !  I  have  a  pair  of  useful  hands  —  I 
have  stout  broad  shoulders.  I  can  work.  The  prospect 
of  poverty  has  no  terrors  for  me !  " 

Mrs.  Tudor  looked  at  the  girl's  face,  strong  and  self- 
reliant  even  in  its  pallor,  and  her  heart  yearned  towards 
her. 

Before  the  great  change  comes,  have  you  not  seen  how 
old  people  go  back  —  drawn,  God  knows  by  what  mys- 
terious cords,  to  the  habits  and  feelings  of  their  childhood  ? 
An  old  French  emigre  I  knew  came  down  a  week  or  two 
ago  to  breakfast  and  spoke  to  his  servants  and  children, 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          271 

for  the  first  time  they  had  ever  heard  him,  in  the  long- 
forgotten  patois  that  his  foreign  nurses  had  talked  to  him 
nearly  a  century  before.  By  noonday  he  was  dead  ;  borne 
away  by  a  stroke  seemingly  as  painless  as  the  sleep  which 
had,  in  those  long-buried  days,  overcome  him  in  his  nurse's 
arms.  During  the  last  three  or  four  days  Mrs.  Tudor  had 
become  at  once  softened  and  harsher  in  her  bearing  to 
those  about  her;  had  dared,  openly,  to  scold  Mistress  Wil- 
son ;  had  actually  given  a  brooch  to  Whitty,  a  garnet  one 
of  little  value  (but  think  of  Mrs.  Tudor  giving  anything 
concerning  which  there  was  no  pet  parson  or  physician  to 
stand  as  recording  angel)  ;  had  alternately  lectured  and 
caressed  Esther  in  a  manner  wholly  different  to  the  usual 
well-bred  indifference  with  which  she  treated  relations. 

~No  softening  or  Christian  principle,  no  mysterious  fore- 
knowledge of  death  acting  under  her  conscience,  changed 
Mrs.  Tudor  thus,  I  think.  In  her  extreme  youth,  before 
the  apprenticeship  of  a  mercenary  marriage  had  first  begun 
to  train  her  for  the  life  of  the  world,  she  had  been  impul- 
sive, almost  generous ;  and  these  long-extinct  and  most 
unprofitable  habits  were  coming  back  now,  mechanically, 
without  will,  without  knowledge  of  hers,  just  like  the  old 
French  emigre's  long-forgotten  patois. 

"  You  have  the  blood  of  our  race  in  your  veins,  Es- 
ther," and  she  actually  stooped  forward  and  leant  her  in- 
ert, automaton-like  hand  for  one  instant  upon  the  girl's. 
<c  The  Fleming  blood  in  your  veins,  and  the  Fleming 
courage  in  your  heart.  Garratt's  son  was  the  only  one 
bearing  the  name,  who  had  no  spirit,  and  he  was  a  Mor- 
timer, rnind,  a  Mortimer  in  face  and  in  heart.  If  your 
grandfather  had  never  seen  Honoria  Mortimer,  the  poor 
whey-faced  little  innocent,  he  took  for  his  wife,  he  wouldn't 
have  ended  as  he  did.  We  were  poor.  I  gave  up  my 
fine  feelings.  1  didn't  marry  the  man  I  thought  I  loved 
when  I  was  sixteen,  and  see  how  I  have  ended,  Esther, 
see  how  I  have  ended !  " 


272  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Esther  looked  up  almost  with  a  shudder  at  the  old  fig- 
ure, stuck  round  with  the  fashions  of  youth  still,  but  with 
the  great  lustreless  eyes  staring,  wan  and  piteous,  from 
the  shrunken  withered  face,  which  to-night  no  amount  of 
rouge  could  keep  from  looking  corpse-like.  "Yes,  Aunt 
Thalia,  I  see  how  you  have  ended." 

"  I  have  had  comfort  all  my  life,  child,  and  society,  and 
friends,  and  I've  been  able  to  give  a  great  deal  to  others 
—  my  charity-books  are  on  the  left-hand  side  of  my  bu- 
reau :  you  will  find  every  farthing  I  have  given  during 
the  last  five-and-twenty  years  written  down  each  with  its 
own  date.  I  have  kept  up  the  name  of  the  family,  and 
been  of  use  and  good  to  the  world,  while  Cecelia  has 
mouldered  her  wretched  life  in  poverty,  and  poor  Garratt 
died,  in  the  prime  of  his  years,  out  of  sheer  debt,  and 
shame,  and  want.  They  gave  way  to  impulse,  you  see, 
to  fine  feelings  !  to  love !  They  married  beggars,  and  beg- 
gars they  both  became  —  while  I  —  child,  are  you  listen- 
ing to  me  ?  " 

"Aunt  Thalia,  I  am  listening." 

"I  gave  up  all/"  her  weak  shrill  voice  brought  this 
word  out  almost  with  a  shriek.  "All!  Youth,  hope, 
love,  the  man  I  loved  :  and  the  sacrifice  bore  good  fruits. 
He  was  handsome,  Esther;  I  saw  him  first  through  the 
grille  of  the  Convent  des  Soeurs,  Grises,  when  Cecelia  and 
I  were  school  girls  there.  He  came  in  the  holidays  to  see 
Antoinette  de  Vismes,  his  sister,  you  know,  by  marriage, 
and  we  walked  together  in  the  summer  evenings  sous  les 
tilleuls  —  sous  les  tilleuls,  et  il  faisait  si  beau  !  Je  portals 
toujours  ma  petite  robe  grise  de  pensionnaire,  mais  il  me 
trouvait  bien.  Esther^  child,  what  do  you  mean,  sitting 
staring  at  me  like  that  ? "  she  interrupted  herself,  ab- 
ruptly. "  I'm  not  ill  —  I  never  felt  better  in  my  life. 
Ring  the  bell  for  Wilson,  no,  I  forgot,  tap  three  times  for 
Whitty.  I  have  left  my  card-purse  up-stairs,  and  she 
must  go  for  it." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  273 

Mrs.  Tudor's  face,  that  had  softened,  had  almost  looked 
young  while  her  tongue  had  strayed  back  to  the  familiar 
days,  the  familiar  scenes  of  her  youth,  was  set  into  ada- 
mant by  the  time  Whitty's  deprecating  step  entered  the 
room.  She  was  wholly  unsuspicious  of  His  coming  whose 
cold  hand  already  gripped  her  fast,  whose  sure  forerunners 
were  these  fitful  resurrections  from  her  long-dead  youth ! 
but  she  knew,  dimly,  that  she  had  been  speaking  without 
her  own  will,  and  in  a  way  that  it  was  not  common  for 
her  to  speak,  and  she  wished  to  efface  the  impression  of 
her  weakness  from  Esther's  mind. 

"  There's  sixpence  short  here,  Whitty,"  when  the  poor 
soul  had  fulfilled  her  errand  like  the  good  fawning  spaniel 
that  she  was ;  "  sixpence  short.  "Tis  no  use  counting  it 
again,  Esther,  I  know  perfectly  what  there  was  when  1 
left  it,"  with  a  glance  at  Whitty.  "  Oblige  me  by  going 
up  to  Wilson,  Miss  Whitty,  and  ask  her  if  she  can  find  a 
sixpence  for  you  upon  the  dressing-table  or  the  floor  of 
my  room.  The  money's  right,  child,"  she  whispered  to 
Esther  when  th-ey  were  alone;  "but  Whitty,  out  of  her 
own  wretched  purse,  will  produce  a  sixpence  sooner  than 
anger  me.  How  I  hate  sycophants !  " 

And  Mrs.  Tudor  was  right.  She  knew  every  turn  of 
her  follower's  character  well ;  could  play  upon  all  the 
baseness  and  littleness  of  that  poor  nature  as  upon  an  in- 
strument. Very  mild  and  apologetic  Whitty  came  back 
with  a  sixpence.  "I  found  it  in  your  left  slipper,  ma'am, 
such  a  curious  place  !" 

And  then  the  sixpence  was  dropped,  with  a  grim  smile 
and  a  hope  that  her  honestly-restored  property  would 
bring  her  luck,  into  Mrs.  Tudor's  purse,  and  she  and  Es- 
ther proceeded  down  stairs  to  the  carriage.  It  was  the 
last  piece  of  kindness  or  condescension  that  Miss  Whitty 
was  destined  ever  to  receive  at  her  patroness's  hands  ! 

During  their  drive  to  Colonel  Dash  wood's  house  Mrs. 
12* 


274  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Tudor  was  quite  herself,  at  her  best  in  her  withering  re- 
marks on  Whitty's  meanness,  and  her  cool  pleasantries  as 
to  the  Dashwood  family  generally,  and  the  set  of  people 
one  was  sure  to  meet  in  such  a  house. 

I  don't  know  whether  the  abrupt  transition  would  have 
reassured  Esther,  if  her  fears  had  been  once  awakened 
concerning  Mrs.  Tudor's  state.  But,  to  say  truth,  Miss 
Fleming  was  in  a  condition  when  the  mind  refuses  to  give 
strong  attention  to  any  subject  but  one ;  when  everything 
in  the  actual,  tangible  world  is  dream-like  by  the  side  of 
one  eloquent  voice  that  speaks,  one  warm  and  living  hand 
that  presses  —  in  the  imagination.  Looking  out  into  the 
lighted  street  as  they  drove  along,  she  though-t  of  no 
object  upon  which  her  eyes  rested,  thought  of  no  word 
Mrs.  Tudor  was  uttering,  save  with  just  sufficient  mechani 
cal  attention  to  say  "  yes"  or  "  no  "  as  occasion  demanded. 
All  her  heart  was  with  Paul  —  Paul  setting  out  ao-ain 

o  o 

upon  the  dark  and  uncheered  road  of  which  he  had  told 
her ;  Paul  thinking,  perhaps,  at  this  moment  of  her  as  of 
a  flighty,  romantic  girl  who  had  given  her  heart  to  him 
without  his  ever  asking  for  such  a  gift  —  Paul  who,  how- 
ever he  might  cloak  the  mystery  over,  was  beyond  all 
doubt  bound  hand  and  foot  to  another  woman  than  her 
—  even  as  she  was  still  bound,  in  honor,  to  Oliver  Carew. 
"You  look  deplorably  111,"  was  Millicent  Dashwood's 
friendly  whisper  to  her  when  they  entered.  "  Even  Jen- 
ny, with  Arthur  Peel  gone  back  two  whole  days  dosen't 
pine  as  visibly  as  you  do  for  Paul.  Depend  upon  it,  it's 
a  mistake  to  regret  any  man,  Esther  !  I  never  mean  to 
do  so  as  long  as  I  live,  and  I'm  not  sure  that  I  won't 
make  John  Alexander  propose  to  me  this  evening.  Any- 
thing to  break  the  dullness  of  one  of  papa  and  Mrs.  Dash- 
wood's  mixed  parties.  Look  at  the  awful  set  of  cautions 
round  the  room,  listen  to  the  awful  silence  that  prevails 
already ! " 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        275 

A  bfill  was  a  thing  never  given  in  the  Dash  wood  house  ; 
Mrs.  Dashwood  considering  such  festivites  too  carnal, 
Colonel  Dashwood  too  expensive.  As  the  Miss  Dash- 
woods  were,  however,  invited  to  the  houses  of  all  the 
gay  Bath  people,  and  as  the  carnal-minded  and  the  right- 
eous can,  on  occasion,  eat  cold  turkey  and  trifle  at  the 
same  board,  it  was  the  custom  of  the  family  once  during 
the  winter  to  give  a  "  drum  "  to  which  every  creature  of 
their  joint  acquaintance  was  invited.  From  these  "  drums" 
dancing  was,  as  a  matter  of  course,  excluded  :  cards,  how- 
ever, were  admitted  —  in  the  back  drawing-room  —  and 
music,  as  a  grand  neutral  territory,  upon  which  the  fastest 
young  lady  or  the  slowest  curate  can  conscientiously 
meet,  was  the  established  entertainment  of  the  night. 

Those  who  are  acquainted  only  with  the  quiet,  well- 
bred  stagnation  of  ordinary  London  "  At  Homes "  can 
form  but  a  dim  and  partial  notion  of  a  provincial  "  drum." 
Everybody  knows  everybody  else,  by  name  and  sight : 
everybody's  set  is  at  daggers  drawn  with  all  the  other's 
sets :  everybody  is  determined  that  no  human  power 
shall  induce  them  to  speak  to  any  one  they  don't  wish  to 
visit,  in  that  house.  Imagine  such  elements  as  Mrs. 
Strangways,  Mrs.  Tudor,  and  about  eight  very  low- 
churchmen  and  their  wives,  in  the  limited  area  of  two 
small  rooms !  Whist,  and  an  exceeding  run  of  ill-luck 
and  bad  partners,  occupied  Mrs.  TudorV  interest  pretty 
well  as  the  evening  progressed,  and  Mrs.  Strangways,  who 
never  failed  at  eliciting  some  kind  of  homage  out  of 
some  one,  made  an  unhesitating  dash  at  a  very  young  cu- 
rate, and  in  spite  of  the  looks  of  half  the  elderly  women 
of  his  flock,  kept  him  at  her  side  for  the  night.  The  two 
great  leaders  of  the  fast  card,  and  the  fast  dancing  sets 
were  provided  for :  but  what  was  to  become  of  the  re- 
maining sixty-six  people  who  filled  the  rooms?  In  vain 
were  interminable  relays  of  weak  negus  pushed  round 


276  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

through  the  crowd  by  the  solitary,  indefatigable  hired 
waiter ;  in  vain  did  supercilious  tenors  break  down  in 
impossible  duets  with  nervous  shrill-voiced  sopranos  ;  in 
vain  did  Jane  and  Milly  exert  themselves  to  bring  togeth- 
er, morally,  those  sixty-six  persons  who,  physically,  were 
wedged  into  one  inextricable  sulky  mass.  All  attempt  at 
enlivenment  was  fruitless.  It  was  the  yearly  Dash  wood 
"  drum."  What  did  any  one  come  for  but  to  be  sulky 
and  speak  to  none  of  the  dreadful  people  you  always  met 
at  that  house,  and  get  away  as  soon  after  supper  as  was 
decently  possible  ? 

Esther  Fleming,  who  had  sat  in  one  place  thinking  of 
Paul  the  whole  night,  was  probably  less  bored  than  any 
other  person  present;  but  even  in  her  state  of  semi-som- 
nambulism it  was  impossible  not  to  be  sensible  of  extreme 
relief  when  she  found  herself  driving  along  through  the 
clear  winter  night  again,  free  to  look  through  the  window 
into  the  now  dim-lighted  street,  and  to  dream  of  Mr. 
Chichester  still. 

For  the  rest,  her  state  of  mind  was  on  this  particular 
night  untroubled.  She  had  not  the  faintest  idea  whether 
the  Dashwoods'  party  had  been  a  failure  or  success.  She 
bore  with  unexampled  meekness  all  Mrs.  Tudor's  sharp 
temper  when  they  reached  home,  and  the  exhausted  state 
of  the  card-purse  was  fully  established.  She  gave  no  heed 
to  Mrs.  Tudor's  ghastly  face,  to  the  deathly,  clammy  feel 
of  the  hand  that  touched,  but  never  pressed  hers  as  they 
bade  each  other  good  night. 

What  human  being  of  eighteen,  in  the  first  and  most 
intoxicating  stage  of  love,  ever  took  note  of  such  small 
things  as  the  failure  of  a  friend's  party,  or  the  loss  of  a  few 
pounds,  and  of  a  great  deal  of  temper  at  whist,  or  of  the 
ghastly  whiteness  of  a  face  that  shall  be  a  corpse  before 
morning? 

We  go  from  the  world  solitary  as  we  come  into  it,  as  we 
live  and  suffer  in  it. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        977 

Esther  Fleming  went  to  her  pillow  to  dream  the  rosy  un- 
truths from  which  to-morrow,  like  every  succeeding  day 
of  her  life,  should  wake  her ;  Mrs.1  Tudor  to  the  last  vision 
she  should  know  of  diamonds  and  'of  hearts  —  of  her 
present  lonely  luxury,  and  of  the  far-off  summer  evenings 
when  she  walked  in  the  garden  of  the  Paris  convent 
"  dans  ma  petite  robe  grise  de  pensionnaire,  et  il  me 
trouvait  bien ! " 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

UNTO  THIS  LAST. 

"  COME  down  at  once,  Miss  Fleming,  come  down,  or 
you'll  be  too  late.  Your  aunt's  been  'took'  again." 

Esther  started  from  her  sleep  —  from  a  delicious  dream 
in  which  she  and  Paul  were  together  and  unfettered ;  and 
saw  Wilson  standing  by  her  side,  frightened  and  useless, 
as  is  the  manner  of  her  class  to  be  in  all  sudden  emergen- 
cies, and  with  a  face  as  white  as  her  night-dress. 

"  Great  God,  Wilson  !  is  Aunt  Thalia  in  danger  ?  and 
so  well  when  I  left  her  last  night." 

"  She  was  took  all  of  a  suddent,  miss.  I  left  the  door 
of  the  dressing-room  ajar,  and  I  went  in  and  looked  at 
her  before  I  got  into  bed,  and  she  was  sleeping  beautiful, 
like  an  infant ;  and  after  I'd  been  asleep  an  hour,  or  it 
may  be  two,  I  heard  a  cry  or  groan  like,  and  I  thought  to 
myself  '  she's  took,'  and  I  started  up  and  found  her  — 
so!" 

And  Wilson  gave  a  ghastly  pantomimic  representation 
of  her  mistress's  state  by  contorting  her  own  face. 

Esther  drew  on  her  dressing-gown  and  a  shawl  and  ran 


278  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

down  to  Mrs.  Tudor's  room.  From  the  time  she  was  a 
child,  she  had  been  so  often  and  so  solemnly  impressed 
with  the  idea  that  she  was  never  to  enter  that  sanctuary 
unbidden,  that,  from  mere  force  of  habit,  she  stopped 
now,  and  tapped  softly  at  the  door. 

"Lord  love  you,  miss,  you  may  go  in,"  said  Wilson  ; 
"  she  won't  know  you  —  she'll  never  know  anything  more 
in  this  world.  Stop,  if  you're  nervous,  and  I'll  go  in 
first." 

She  went  in  softly,  and  pushing  back  the  curtains  from 
the  head  of  the  bed,  disclosed  Mrs.  Tudor's  unconscious 
form  to  Esther's  gaze. 

On  the  dressing-table,  lit  up  by  the  flare  of  Wilson's 
hastily-lit  untended  candle,  lay  outspread  (carelessly  ex- 
posed as  it  was  her  wont  to  leave  it  at  night)  all  the 
sacred  dressing  paraphernalia  :  the  creams,  the  unguents, 
the  false  dark  hair,  the  perfumes,  the  rouge  pots,  the  kaly- 
dors,  of  the  dying  woman.  A  set  of  pearl  ornaments  that 
she  had  worn  the  night  before  lay  side  by  side  with  the 
empty  card-purse  and  the  velvet-bound  prayer-book  that 
Esther  had  always  seen  on  her  aunt's  table  —  closed  — 
since  she  was  a  child.  On  a  couch  at  the  foot  of  the  bed 
was  outspread  the  dress  she  had  taken  off,  brocaded  silk 
of  exquisite  French-grey  hue ;  on  the  wall,  suspended  in 
a  fashion  of  Mrs.  Tudor's  own,  for  the  due  recovery  of 
shape,  was  her  last  Parisian  crinoline.  Pearls  and  dia- 
monds upon  the  dressing  table  ;  silks  and  crinoline  around 
the  room ;  on  the  table  by  the  bedside  the  silver  night- 
lamp  shedding  its  light,  with  ghastly  fullness,  upon  Mrs. 
Tudor's  face.  Pearls  and  diamonds ;  gold  and  silver ; 
rouge  and  kalydor  and  unclosed  velvet  prayer-book ;  and 
on  the  bed  —  what  ?  A  picture  of  mortality  so  fearful 
that  for  the  first  moment  Esther  shrunk  back,  sick  and 
aghast ;  an  image  of  life  (for  life  this  surely  could  not  be) 
with  sense,  with  recognition,  with  consciousness,  with  all 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  279 

but  breath,  gone :  without  even  the  inalienable  heritage, 
the  last  look  of  humanity  —  the  look  of  pain  —  left  upon 
the  half-closed,  sightless  eyes  and  contorted  features. 

"  She  has  been  so  ever  since  she  was  took,"  said  Wilson 
aloud  ;  and  leaning  over  her  mistress  charily,  as  one  might 
do  over  a  newly-unfolded  mummy,  or  other  unpleasant 
but  curious  object.  "Hearken  to  her  breathing,  Miss 
Fleming.  I'd  an  uncle  took  in  the  pralisiss,  and  he 
breathed  just  so  for  seven  hours  and  a  half,  and  then  died 
quiet  and  comfortable." 

Esther  motioned  her  to  be  silent,  and  then  bent,  all  her 
first  horror  gone,  over  the  stonily-passive  face  upon  the 
pillow. 

"  Aunt  Thalia,  can  I  do  anything  for  you  ?  Is  there 
any  one  you  would  like  to  see?" 

But  not  the  faintest  movement  in  any  part  of  the  frame 
gave  token  that  Mrs.  Tudor  heard. 

"You  might  as  well  begin  talking  to  the  dead  at  once, 
Miss  Fleming,"  said  Wilson.  "Don't  you  know  that  you 
should  never  speak  to  a  dying  person,  nor  yet  touch 
of  'em  ?  It  makes  them  die  harder.  You  watch  here 
and  don't  move  and  don't  speak,  and  I'll  put  on  a  few 
things  and  go  rouse  Miss  Whitty  and  the  house.  The 
doctor  must  be  sent  for,  of  course,  for  form's  sake  ! " 

Wilson  withdrew  to  her  own  apartment,  which  com- 
municated with  Mrs.  Tudor's,  and  made  quite  an  elabor- 
ate toilette  —  black  silk  dress,  lace  collar  and  sleeves,  cork- 
screw ringlets,  and  brooch —  while  Esther  stood  and  listen- 
ed, silent  and  awe-struck,  to  each  unnaturally-heavy,  ster 
torous  breath  that  the  dying  woman  drew.  The  minutes 
appeared  to  pass  like  long  hours  when  she  was  left  alone  — 
Wilson  having  swept  away  with  the  candle  downstairs  — 
in  the  great  dim-lighted  room  with  her  unconscious  charge. 
It  seemed  to  her  as  if  every  one  of  those  fearful  breath- 
ings must  be  the  last;  as  though  it  were  impossible  Hie 


280  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

could  still  dwell  upon  those  rigid  lips  which  seen  in  this 
light,  and  by  her  awe-struck  imagination,  seemed  already 
changing  every  moment  —  not  into  death,  merely,  but  in- 
to death  in  some  of  its  most  fearful  and  repulsive  after- 
stages. 

Esther  had  often  pictured  Mrs.  Engleheart  dying,  when 
she  had  seen  her  sitting  in  the  porch  at  Countisbury,  with 
the  sunset  fading  from  her  old  blanched  face ;  and  the 
thought  had  always  struck  .her  then  that  such  a  death 
would  be  lovely  —  lovelier  than  anything  in  the  bereft, 
helpless  woman's  life  could  have  been  for  years.  But  the 
suddenness  of  Mrs.  Tudor's  seizure,  its  physical  horror,  its 
environment  of  jewels  and  gewgaws  and  vanities,  smote 
upon  the  girl's  heart  with  an  almost  supernatural  terror. 
She  felt  that  Wilson's  heartless  commonplaces  were  better 
than  this  silence,  Wilson  herself,  in  her  silk  and  ringlets, 
a  more  human  thing  to  look  upon  than  the  reflection 
which  half  a  dozen  mirrors  gave  back  at  every  turn  of 
Mrs.  Tudor's  dying  face  ;  and  it  was  an  intense  relief  to 
her  when  she  at  last  heard  a  tremulous  knocking  at  the 
door,  and  saw  the  figure  of  Miss  Whitty  standing  there 
in  her  dressinor-^own. 

o  o 

Now  Miss  Whitty  was  not  by  any  means  an  unfeeling 
person  at  heart ;  and  she  came  and  sniffed,  in  a  becoming 
manner,  at  the  first  sight  of  her  benefactress.  But  Miss 
Whitty  had  seen  a  great  deal  of  death  (by  her  own  ac- 
count had  closed  the  eyes  of  half  the  distinguished  people 
in  the  land,)  and  Esther,  to  whom  death,  or  even  illness, 
was  new,  thought  there  was  something  extraordinarily 
hard  and  professional  in  her  general  treatment  of  the  sick 
room. 

She  walked  on  tiptoes,  it  is  true  —  all  women  of  the 
Whitty  class  do  that  — with  a  creaking  exasperating  cau- 
tion that,  if  the  patient  had  not  been  long  stages  beyond 
all  outward  discomfiture  now,  must  have  driven  her  dy« 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  281 

ing  brain  to  distraction  ;  but  she  also  poked  violently  at 
the  expiring  fire — looking  round  at  the  bed  between  each 
blow  of  the  poker,  as  much  as  to  note  what  effect  the 
noise  was  taking  upon  the  patient ;  she  got  ready  perfect- 
ly useless  hot  water;  she  drew  some  blinds  up  and  some 
curtains  down,  obviously  with  no  more  coherent  purpose 
than  that  of  producing  as  much  indirect  disturbance 
as  possible ;  finally,  and  when  the  doctor's  muffled  step 
was  already  on  the  stairs,  she  took  the  velvet  prayer-book 
from  the  toilet-table  ;  seated  herself,  sniffing  again,  by  the 
head  of  the  bed  ;  and,  when  the  handle  of  the  door  turn- 
ed, began  to  weep  audibly  over  the  place  at  which  the 
book  had  chanced  to  open  —  the  Public  Baptism,  I  believe, 
of  such  as  are  of  riper  years. 

Mrs.  Tudor's  medical  attendant  w&s  the  most  popular 
ladies'  physician  in  the  place.  Is  it  necessary  to  say  that 
the  popular  ladies'  physician  of  an  English  watering-place 
must  possess  a  tall  and  graceful  figure,  longish  hair  waving 
back  from  his  temples,  and  a  fine  white  hand  with  almond- 
shaped  nails.  His  eyes  fell  upon  Esther  Fleming's  hand- 
some face  the  moment  he  entered,  and  he  gave  her  a  smile 
which,  while  duly  chastened  by  the  deep  melancholy  of  the 
occasion,  was  sufficiently  pronounced  to  show  the  dazzling 
whiteness  of  his  teeth.  Then  he  advanced  to  Mrs.  Tudor'g 
side,  looked  at  her,  touched  her  pulse  for  a  moment  or 
two,  and  folded  his  arms  across  his  chest.  It  was  his  fav 
orite  pose  ;  and  a  good  one.  At  this  particular  moment 
he  speculated  as  to  whether  the  dark-eyed  young  person 
behind  the  curtains  thought  so  to. 

"  Is  there  —  is  there  any  hope  ?  "  whispered  Miss  Whit- 
ty,  with  great  agitation.  "  We  —  we  should  like  to  know 
the  worst ! " 

"  When  was  Mrs.  Tudor  taken  ill  ?  " 

"About  an  hour  ago,  sir."  And  Wilson,  with  one  ot 
Mrs.  Tudor's  cambric  handkerchiefs  to  her  eyes,  placed 


282  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

herself  between  the  physician  and  Miss  Whitty.  "  I  was 
watching  in  ray  room,  and  I  heard  a  noise,  sir,  and  I  knew 
it  must  by  my  poor  lady,  and  I  ran,  and  — 

"I  know.  And  she  has  not  spoken  since  ?  Go  and  get 
mustard  for  plasters,  and  keep  perfectly  quiet." 

When  Wilson  had  left  the  room,  followed,  after  an  in- 
effectual attempt  at  conversation,  by  Miss  Whitty,  Esther 
came  up  to  the  doctor's  side. 

"  Will  there  be  any  change,  or  is  this  the  last  ? "  she 
whispered. 

"  The  last,  in  all  human  probability."  And  so  sympa- 
thizing was  this  good  physician  that  he  took  the  girl's 
cold  hand  and  held  it  warmly  in  his  own.  "I  will  stay 
here  for  a  time.  You  must  try  to  keep  yourself  calm." 

And  he  looked  down  into  her  face,  and  remarked  the 
exceeding  length  and  darkness  of  the  lashes  that  rested 
on  her  white  cheek. 

"  Thank  you,  I  am  glad  you  can  stay.  It  is  fearful  to 
see  her  in  such  a  state,  and  to  be  able  to  do  nothing  for 
her." 

Esther  went  back  to  her  place  at  the  other  side  of  the 
bed;  the  doctor  seated  himself  and  began  to  look  at  his 
nails  —  it  is  a  great  resource  to  a  doctor  to  have  almond- 
shaped  nails ;  and  then,  after  a  few  minutes,  the  women 
came  back,  and  some  fruitless  remedies  were  tried  and  put 
away  again ;  and  then  the  room  lapsed  back  into  silence, 
and  the  winter  morning  dawned. 

Dawned,  pale  and  ghastly  upon  the  livid  face  of  the 
dying  woman ;  upon  Miss  Whitty,  yawning  over  her 
prayer-book;  upon  the  favorite  physician,  with  his  hand- 
some eyes  fast  shut;  upon  Wilson,  with  the  ostentatious 
cambric  to  her  face,  and  making  sharp  calculations  as  to 
the  amount  of  spoil  that  was  likely  to  fall  into  her  hands. 
Dawned  upon  velvet  draperies  and  silks  and  diamonds 
and  pearls !  The  Beulah  within  whose  pleasant  shades 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  283 

one  was  waiting  for  the  messenger  from  the  Shining  City  ; 
dawned  upon  all  the  worldly  pomp  and  vanity  of  this 
pilgrim  of  fourscore  years,  who  was  now  to  cross  the 
dark  river,  unwept  for  and  alone  ! 

They  never  knew  the  precise  moment  at  which  the 
great  change  came.  Mrs.  Tudor  gave  no  more  sign  of 
consciousness  to  the  last  than  she  had  done  from  the  first 
moment  when  she  was  struck  down  speechless  and  mo- 
tionless. Those  who  watched  her  knew  not  the  exact 
moment  at  which  the  spirit  fluttered  from  its  prison  ;  but 
before  eight  o'clock  that  morning  the  prison-house  was 
vacant  and  cold  ;  and  Miss  Whitty  was  sealing  strips  of 
paper  across  the  drawers  and  cupboards  ;  and  Wilson  was 
showing  extraordinary  zeal  in  getting  all  small  and  por- 
table articles  put  into  order  ;  and  every  one  who  approach- 
ed the  chamber  of  death  was  already  as  sympathetic  and 
obsequious  in  their  attentions  to  Miss  Fleming,  the  heir- 
ess, as  they  had  been  to  Mrs.  Tudor  herself,  not  twelve 
short  hours  before. 

We  all  know  the  beautiful  legend  of  Addison's  death- 
bed. I  hold  the  moral  of  deathbeds  like  Thalia  Tudor's 
to  be  not  a  whit  less  instructive. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  MAMMON  OF    UNRIGHTEOUSNESS. 

two  days  of  her  life  Esther  Fleming  knew  the  sen 
sation  of  being  a  reputed  heiress.     For  two  days  every 
one  told  her  she  was  the  inheritress  of  her  Aunt  Thalia's 
money,  and  treated  her,  under  this  belief,  with  the  great- 
est consideration  and  kindness. 

Colonel  Dashwood  insisted  upon   taking  all  necessary 


284  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WITHES. 

melancholy  arrangements  off  the  bereaved  young  crea- 
ture's hands ;  Mrs.  Dashwood,  merging  sectarian  differ- 
ences in  the  broadest  philanthropy,  offered  to  come  and 
read  with  her ;  Milly  hoped,  in  a  multitude  of  tiny  notes, 
that  dearest  Esther  would  never  forget  how  she,  Milli- 
cent,  had  been  her  earliest  friend  ;  the  good  physician 
hvas  personally  anxious  about  her  looks  ;  Wilson  recol- 
lected she  had  liked  Miss  Fleming's  expression  from  the 
first  moment  she  ever  set  her  eyes  upon  her;  Miss  Whit- 
ty  made  many  meek  demonstrations  of  personal  regard, 
with  suggestions  as  to  the  necessity  in  which  every  young 
lady  of  fortune  must  stand  of  a  middle-aged  person,  ac- 
customed to  the  best  walks  of  society,  for  traveling  com- 
panion, confidant,  house-keeper,  chaperon. 

For  two  days  only  :  on  the  third,  Mrs.  Tudor's  solicitor 
came  down  from  London,  curt,  cold,  business  like,  and 
then  Esther  Fleming's  one  Aladdin -like  dream  was  over. 
Mrs.  Tudor's  whole  capital  had  been  sunk,  five-and-thirty 
years  before,  in  a  life  annuity.  The  office  would  defray 
the  expenses  of  the  funeral  (taking  the  trouble  from  Col- 
onel Dashwood's  hands,)  and  all  Mrs.  Tudor's  personal 
property  —  consisting  solely  of  trinkets,  clothes,  and  pic- 
tures —  was  bequeathed,  by  will,  to  her  dear  great-niece 
and  god-child,  Esther  Fleming. 

I  ask  no  mature  reader  to  sympathize  with  Miss  Flem- 
.ing's  fatuity  on  the  occasion ;  but  I  think  many  people, 
under  one-and-twenty,  will,  at  least,  believe  me  when  I 
record  the  fact  that  her  first  sensation,  on  hearing  of  her 
regained  poverty,  was  one  of  joy.  Amidst  all  the  obse- 
quious flattery  of  the  last  two  days,  one  heavy,  one  crush- 
ing thought  had  never  left  her :  she  must  hold  to  Oliver 
now.  Poor,  she  stood  on  equal  terms  with  him  ;  nay, 
was  not  he,  with  the  worth  of  his  commission,  far  higher 
in  the  social  scale  than  the  penniless  country  girl  living 
in  a  farm-house  on  the  charity  of  very  poor  relations  ? 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  285 

But  rich,  sought  after,  in  a  better  position  than  his  own, 
she  knew  that  she  would  never  have  moral  courage  enough 
to  be  true  to  herself  and  to  her  own  newly-discovered 
feelings.  How  could  she  make  him  believe  that  her 
change  towards  him  had  arisen,  in  reality,  before  Mrs. 
Tudor's  death  ?  How  take  back,  in  her  worldly  prosperi- 
ty, the  allegiance  she  had  been  so  prompt  to  swear  when 
her  youth  and  love  were  all  the  wealth  she  had  to  offer 
him,  all  the  wealth  that  he  had  sought  ? 

Simple,  uncalculating,  unworldly  by  nature,  I  maintain 
that  these  were  literally  the  first  and  bitter  reflections  of 
Esther's  heart  when  she  found  herself  regarded  as  Mrs. 
Tudor's  undoubted  heiress.  That  she  was  free  again,  free 
to  look  in  Oliver's  face  and  say,  "  I  like  you  too  well,  I 
honor  myself  too  much,  to  marry  you,"  was  her  first 
thankful  emotion  when  the  altered  manner  of  all  her  fresh- 
found  friends  and  dependants  made  her  realise  fully  that 
she  was  again  plain  Esther  Fleming  of  Countisbury — Es- 
ther Fleming  the  heiress  no  longer. 

"  And  all  I  can  say  is,  that  I  expected  it  from  the  first," 
wrote  Joan  Engleheart,  in  her  bitter  letter  on  the  occa- 
bion.  "Selfish  and  worldly  she  has  lived,  selfish  and 
worldly  she  has  gone  —  to  the  place  where  such  people 
go !  Thalia  Tudor  has  done  a  bad  deed.  May  God  re- 
ward her  for  it !  And  I  command  you  to  buy  no  shred 
of  mourning,  beyond  what  you  can  find  of  black  among 
her  wardrobe ;  no,  not  so  much  as  a  new  black  ribbon  to 
your  bonnet.  We  don't  mourn  her,  and  we  won't  mock 
heaven  by  pretending  we  do.  Take  good  heed  of  her 
jewels  as  you  travel.  The  emerald  set  is  the  best.  Sew 
them,  as  I  showed  you  once,  about  your  person,  and  prate 
to  no  one  of  what  you've  got.  Your  proposal  of  giving 
the  women  Whitty  and  Wilson  any  of  her  clothes,  is  the 
proposal. of  a  fool,  and  I  forbid  you  to  give  away  one  far- 
thing's worth.  You  will  want  it  all,  child,  and  the  thirty 


286  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

pounds  a  year  gone  too,  and  everything  rising  as  it  does. 
With  all  her  avarice,  you  may  be  sure  these  sharpers 
preyed  enough  upon  the  old  woman  while  she  lived.  I 
don't  understand  your  fine  sentiments  about  having  es- 
caped a  great  many  bad  things  in  escaping  money.  I 
never  brought  you  up  to  talk  such  idiocy.  Money  is  a 
good  thing,  and  you  have  missed  it,  like  the  rest  of  us, 
and  your  life  will  be  one  of  work  and  hardship,  as  mine 
has  been.  Come  home  directly  after  the  funeral,  and' 
spend  nothing  on  the  road.  —  Your  friend, 

ENGLEHEART." 


And  then,  on  a  morsel  of  paper,  furtively  slipped  inside 
the  cover  of  the  letter,  these  words:  "Dearest  Etty.  — 
There's  something  in  the  world  better  than  money,  and 
you  have  got  it.  —  DAVID  ENGLE  HEART." 

No  relation  of  Mrs.  Tudor's  save  Esther  Fleming  went 
to  the  funeral  ;  no  tears  were  sh<id,  or  attempted  to  be 
shed,  when  all  that  remained  of 

"  The  toil  and  grief  of  fourscore  years, 
Put  up  in  a  white  sheet  tied  with  two  knots." 

went  to  its  last  rest.  In  high  spirits,  and  a  new  black 
silk,  Mrs.  Wilson  had  betaken  herself  to  a  fresh  place 
with  better  wages,  that  very  morning.  In  the  afternoon 
Miss  Whitty  went  out,  primed  with  funereal  news,  on  a 
round  of  visits,  and  Esther  was  left  alone. 

She  had  not  been  in  the  least  degree  depressed,  a&  I 
have  said,  by  Mrs.  Tudor's  disinheriting  her  ;  but  on  this 
afternoon  a  great  weight  did  seem  to  hang  upon  her  spirits. 
A  funeral,  like  a  marriage,  leaves  the  mind  coo  highly 
wrought  for  any  of  the  unexciting  employments  of  the 
common  days  of  life  ;  and  this  whether  we  have  felt  any 
really  strong  concern  or  not  in  the  person  married  or 
buried.  Joan's  letter  of  the  morning  had  brought  Esther 


THE  ORDEAL  FOE  WIVES.          287 

Fleming  back  vividly  to  the  future  that  lay  before  her  at 
Countisbury.  She  would  break  with  Oliver,  would  re. 
turn  home,  and  then  —  what?  What  zest  could  she  take 
in  the  old  childish  interests  now?  —  the  household  work, 
the  summer  walks  with  David,  the  winter  readings  by  the 
little  parlor  fire  ?  Who  that  has  tasted  of  the  first  (alas  ! 
that  it  should  be  so)  the  best  draught  of  passion,  can  look 
forward  to  a  return  of  the  pure,  untroubled  past  without 
a  shudder?  She  wanted  to  be  near  Paul ;  to  hear  the  hum 
of  the  same  London  life  as  he  heard ;  to  walk  along  the 
streets,  where,  by  faintest  possibility,  she  might  one  day 
chance  to  see  his  face  among  the  crowd.  What  had  she 
to  do  with  Countisbury  ?  She  was  as  much  severed  from 
it  —  from  the  low  grey  house,  the  shady  garden  walks, 
the  woods  where  she  had  walked  with  Oliver  —  as  though 

o 

the  time  could  be  measured  by  years,  not  weeks,  since 
she  left  it  last.  A  death  lay  between  that  time  and  this  — 
the  death  of  her  own  first  youth ;  of  the  childish,  happy 
youth  that  Oliver  Carew's  love  had  never  so  much  as 
stirred. 

Thinking  these  things,  beside  the  fire,  with  her  head 
bent  down  between  her  hands,  Esther  sat  through  the 
fading  winter  afternoon ;  and  so  wrapt  in  her  own  dull 
prospects  was  she,  that  when  a  loud  double  knock  came 
suddenly  at  the  street-door  it  scarcely  served  to  rouse  her 
an  instant  from  her  abstraction.  No  one  could  be  calling 
for  her  on  the  day  of  the  funeral,  and  if  visitors  did  come, 
the  people  of  the  house  had  orders  to  say  that  Miss  Flem-. 
ing  was  not  well,  and  wished  to  be  undisturbed.  What 
indeed,  could  the  poor  disappointed  young  lady  wish  to 
hear  of  condolence  or  exhortation  or  cheerfulness  on  such 
a  day  as  this? 

"  But  the  gentleman  says  he  is  sure  you  would  see  'iiinif 
Miss  Fleming.  A  young  gentleman  —  quite  a  young 
gentleman,  miss." 


288  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 


—  not  the  gentleman  who  used  to  come  to  see 
me  —  "  and  Miss  Fleming  started  up  with  suddenly  awak- 
ened interest  —  "I  mean,  to  see  poor  Mrs.  Tudor?  " 

"  Oh,  dear  no,  not  Mr.  Chichester,"  explained  the  land 
lady  compassionately  (does  not  every  member  of  the  race 
know,  by  instinct,  whether  a  man  is  rich  or  poor  ?)  ;  "a 
very  fine  gentleman,  miss.  Tall,  and  with  long,  fair  mus 
tachios,  and  quite  the  air  of  an  officer  about  him." 

It  was  Oliver.  The  fierce  beating  of  Esther's  guilty 
heart  told  her  that.  Oliver,  and  she  had  not  conned  hei 
part  through  ;  had  not  schooled  her  tongue  into  one  of 
the  expressions  wherewith  to  confess  her  guilt. 

"I  will  see  this  gentleman.  I  believe  I  know  who  it  is. 
He  is  an  old  friend  of  our  family  :  ask  him  to  come  up, 
please." 

She  clasped  her  hands  together  rigidly;  she  called  up 
every  thought  of  Paul  to  strengthen  her  now  in  her  sti- 
premest  sudden  need.  The  landlady,  with  thoughts  intent 
upon  her  upholstery  looking  its  best  before  the  stranger, 
drew  down  the  blinds  and  lit  the  gas  ;  and  then  there  was 
a  minute's  respite  —  if  respite  that  awful  century  could  be 
called,  during  which  Esther  heard  his  step,  his  voice  upon 
the  stairs  —  and  Oliver  Carew  entered  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

BROKEN    OFF. 

SHE  walked  forward  steadily,  and  with  outstretched 
bands,  to  meet  him ;  but  for  the  life  of  him  Oliver  Carew 
could  not  have  tried  at  that  moment  to  take  Esther  Flem 
kwt  in  his  arms  and  kiss  her. 

What  is  it  that  makes  us  all  know  intuitively  when 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        289 

people  have  ceased  to  love  us  ?  The  eyes,  the  lips,  arc 
there,  just  as  when  they  told  us  their  last  fond  falsehood  ; 
the  hand  is  ready  for  us  to  grasp,  the  cheek  for  us  to  kiss, 
and  lo  !  a  spectre,  the  ghost,  perhaps,  of  our  unknown 
rival,  steps  between  and  freezes  us  with  awful  foreboding 
of  that  which  is  to  come. 

Oliver  Carew  had  as  good  an  opinion  of  his  own  pow- 
ers as  perhaps  any  man  in  England,  and  Esther  —  a  thou- 
sand-fold handsomer  than  when  he  left  —  Esther,  softer, 
more  womanly,  more  shy  than  he  had  ever  seen  her ;  her 
downcast  cheeks  flushed  crimson,  her  lips  silent  and  trem- 
bling —  was  within  a  yard  of  his  arms,  and  he  never  offer- 
ed to  take  her  in  them,  or  so  much  as  to  raise  her  cold 
hand  to  his  lips. 

"  I  have  startled  you,  Esther.  You  did  not  expect  to 
see  me  in  England  so  soon.  I  only  landed  yesterday,  and 
had  not  time  to  write  and  tell  you  I  was  coming.  Esther, 
are  you  glad  to  see  me  ?  " 

She  raised  her  eyes  slowly  to  his  face. 

"You  — you  have  come  in  a  time  of  trouble,"  she  stam- 
mered. "My  Aunt  Thalia  was  buried  to-day." 

"  And  you  are  alone  ?  My  poor  little  Esther !  "  He 
took  her  hand  again  and  clasped  it  more  warmly ;  "  how 
glad  I  am  that  I  came  on  to  Bath  to-night." 

Would  he  kiss  her  now  ?  Looking  so  close  down  on 
the  delicious  temptation  of  that  fresh  face,  was  the  spec- 
tre laid  already  ?  I  suppose  some  intuition  made  Esther 
Fleming  think  so ;  for,  with  the  quick  tact  that  the  sim- 
plest of  her  sex  possesses,  she  managed  to  return  to  her 
place  beside  the  fire,  to  make  Oliver  Carew  take  a  chair 
at  (at  least)  three  yards  distance  from  her,  and  then  went 
back,  just  as  though  he  had  said  and  looked  nothing  in 
reply,  to  her  own  first  remark.  "  Yes,  you  have  returned 
in  a  time  of  trouble.  My  Aunt  Thalia  was  buried  to- 
day." 13 


290  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Her  fingers  began  to  trifle  with  the  folds  of  her  black 
dress.  Mr.  Carew  watched  her  closely.  Had  she  come 
into  possession  of  her  aunt's  money,  and  did  she  wish  to 
be  quit  of  her  engagement  for  that  reason  ? 

It  was  not  a  noble  suspicion.  But  Oliver  really  knew 
very  little  of  Esther,  beyond  her  soft  complexion  and 
long  eyelashes ;  and  the  school  in  which  he  had  been 
brought  up  is  one  apt  to  make  young  men  have  many 
suspicions  with  regard  to  young  ladies.  How  would  it 
be  to  let  her  play  her  own  game  out  ?  withhold  the  secret 
of  his  birth  and  of  his  fortune,  which  five  minutes  before 
he  had  had  such  generous  intentions  of  disclosing,  and  so 
let  the  foolish  boy-and-girl  entanglement  end  ?  There 
were  plenty  of  other  fair  women  besides  Esther  Fleming 
in  the  world  :  fair  women  who,  if  they  were  mercenary 
like  her,  could,  at  least,  bring  equal  birth  and  education 
and  rank  to  his  own  as  their  dowry. 

Her  first  faltering  words  made  Mr.  Carew  rather 
ashamed  of  himself. 

"  Yes,  1  am  in  trouble.  The  death,  even  of  a  very  old 
person  like  my  Aunt  Thalia,  is  solemn,  although  one  can't, 
of  course,  pretend  to  feel  real  grief  for  it ;  and  then,  too," 
stealing  a  quick  look  at  his  face,  "  I  have  had  to  bear  a 
great  deal  of  condolence  from  friends  during  the  last  few 
days.  My  Aunt  Thalia's  money  dies  with  her,  instead 
of  coming  to  me  as  every  one  thought  it  would." 

Oliver  sprang  up  and  was  at  her  side  in  a  moment. 

"  Esther,  what  does  that  matter  to  you  ?  Why  need 
you  trouble  about  anything  to  do  with  money  ?  " 

"  I  don't  trouble,"  she  spoke  very  quick  and  decided, 
for  she  wished  to  spare  him  the  humiliation  of  softening 
before  her ;  "  I  don't  trouble  at  all.  I  said  only  I  had 
had  to  bear  the  condolence  of  friends.  For  the  money 
itself,  I  am  glad,  yes,  very  glad,  it  has  not  come  to  me. 
I  don't  want  money.  I  don't  envy  rich  people  their  lives. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  291 

I  have  been  brought  up  to  work,  and  a  life  of  work  will 
suit  me  best." 

"  Esther,  you  shall  never  work." 

It  was  all  useless.  She  could  not  stave  off  the  inevita- 
ble moments,  the  horrible  pain  of  confessing  the  entire 
truth.  Oliver's  whole  face  was  softening  (he  had  taken  a 
place  close  beside  her  on  the  sofa)  ;  his  arm  was  already 
almost  round  her  waist. 

"  Esther,  I,  too,  have  some  news  to  tell  you.  I  am  in  a 
very  different  position  to  what  I  held  when  I  left  you  last. 
My  cousin,  of  whom  I  have  spoken  to  you,  is  dead,  and 
j » 

He  had  got  her  hand  in  his,  and  all  the  old  lover-like 
manner  was  returning  fast.  The  blood  rushed  hot  and 
confused  across  Esther's  brain  ;  she  knew  not,  she  cared 
not,  what  words  they  were  that  rose  to  her  tongue  to 
speak.  All  she  did  know  was  that  she  must  tell'  him; 
that  Carew's  lips  must  never  toucli  her  lips,  his  hands 
clasp  her  hands  as  they  were  clasping  them  now. 

"  I  must  not  deceive  you,  Oliver.  If  I  could  I  would 
have  said  this  in  a  letter,  but  I  didn't  know  where  to 
write,  and  I  was  afraid  the  letter  might  be  lost.  We 
were  very  young,  you  know,  when  you  met  me  at  Count- 
isbury,  last  summer,  and  our  engagement  was  made  hasti- 
ly, before,  indeed,  wre  knew  anything  of  each  other's 
characters ;  and  —  and  isn't  it  far  better  to  speak  the 
truth  out,  than  to  go  on  blindly  as  we  began,  and  both  be 
miserable  for  life  ?  " 

People  never  say  exactly  what  they  mean  to  say,  nor 
indeed,  exactly  the  truth,  on  occasions  like  this ;  but  had 
Esther  taken  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  prepare  herself,  and 
to  soften  down  the  coming  humiliation,  it  would  have 
made  no  difference.  The  form  of  words  in  which  his  dis- 
missal was  couched  mattered  nothing  to  Oliver  Carew. 
The  monstrous  idea  of  Esther  —  Esther,  poorer  now  than 


292  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

she  had  ever  been  —  rejecting  him  —  him,  Oliver  Carew, 
just  as  he  was  going  to  tell  her  of  his  newly-acquired  rank 
and  fortune  !  wras  all  that  his  mind  c'ould  grasp  :  and,  in- 
deed, for  a  few  seconds,  he  positively  could  not  bring  him- 
self to  believe  that  the  girl  was  speaking  seriously.  He 
could  compass,  you  recollect,  the  idea  of  her  giving  him 
up  because  of  her  own  superior  wealth  ;  but  to  change 
from  any  other  motive,  to  change  when  he  was  just  going 
to  be  the  most  generous  man  living,  in  keeping  to  his  own 
foolish  engagement  —  no,  it  was  impossible  !  The  simple 
creature  was  awed,  as  she  well  might  be,  by  thinking  of 
any  further  difference  having  arisen  in  their  position  in 
addition  to  that  enormous  one  which  already  existed  — 
and  this  was  all. 

"  Don't  fear,  Esther,  I  shall  never  alter  to  you.  We 
don't  know  a  very  great  deal  of  each  other  yet,  as  you 
say  ;  but  I  know  quite  enough  of  your  goodness,  your  — 
your  — "  a  certain  determined  look  in  her  eyes  flurried 
him  —  your  truth,  to  make  me  sure  that  I  have  chosen 
wisely." 

"  Oliver,  I  have  not  been  true.  I  have  changed  utterly 
since  you  saw  me  last." 

He  started  up,  and  the  color  rushed  into  his  face. 

"  Not  true  ?  and  you  have  written,  you  have  pretended 
to  keep  to  your  engagement  all  this  time  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have  written,  I  have  striven  to  keep  to  my  en- 
gagement to  you.  I  wouldn't  believe  for  a  long  time 
that  it  was  possible  I  could  really  have  been  mistaken  in 
what  I  thought  I  felt,  but  I  know  it  now  —  I  know  it  for 
certain  now  —  and  I  ask  you  to  forgive  me  for  ever  hav- 
ing, even  for  one  hour,  deceived  you.  I  deceived  myself 
first ;  don't  you  see  that  ?  I  hoped  and  prayed  that  I 
might  come  back  to  rny  faith  to  you,  and  when  I  found  it 
was  not  to  be  so  —  do  believe  me  when  I  say  that  my 
sufferings  were  horrible.  I  am  lowered  in  my  own  sight 
as  much,  I  think,  as  it  is  possible  to  be  lowered  in  yours." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        293 

Now  Esther  Fleming  was  just  acting  as  well  as  it  was 
possible  for  her  to  act;  as  truthfully,  as  honestly,  as  any 
woman  ever  acted  in  confessing  her  own  infidelity.  But 
Oliver  recognized  neither  generosity,  nor  truth,  nor  honor. 
He  was  wounded  to  the  core;  pierced  in  a  deeper  feeling 
far  than  his  love  :  and  smarting  with  all  the  first  cruel 
smart  of  outraged  vanity,  he  spoke  :  — 

"  I  might  have  expected  this.  I  might  have  expected 
that  a  love  so  quickly  won  wouldn't  have  overmuch  root. 
T  have  been  a  fool.  Not  one  man  in  a  hundred  would  have 
held  to  such  an  engagement  as  a  serious  one.  You  have 
extricated  us  both  well  from  a  ridiculous  position,  and  I 
have  to  thank  you  for  taking  the  onus  of  doing  so  upon 
yourself." 

Then  Esther's  eyes  flashed  fire,  and  her  cheeks  glowed. 

"You  speak  very  ill  when  you  speak  so,  Mr.  Carew. 
My  love  for  you  was  not  light ;  my  engagement  to  you  did 
not  place  you  in  any  ridiculous  position.  I  was  only  a  girl, 
an  ignorant  country  girl  when  I  met  you  last  summer,  and 
your  pretty  speeches  and  your  town  manners  flattered  me. 
Yes,  this  is  the  truth,  sir,  and  I  mistook  my  own  pleased 
vanity  for  love ;  and  when  you  were  away  I  dreamed  of 
you,  and  in  my  dreams  made  a  hero  of  you  —  quite  dif- 
ferent to  what  I  know  you  really  are.  And  then  I  came 
away,  I  came  away  from  Countisbury,  Mr.  Carew,  and  I 
met  some  one  —  not  like  you  at  all  -=—  some  one  with 
plain  manners,  and  who  never  flattered  me,  and,  even  while 
I  still  wrote  to  you,  I  came  (in  spite  of  all  I  tried)  to  find 
out  what  feeling  one  should  have  to  the  man  one  married, 
and  I  know  quite  well  I  never,  no,  not  for  a  single  hour, 
have  had  that  feeling  for  you." 

Mr.  Carew's  very  lips  grew  white  with  rage. 

"You  are  awfully  outspoken,  Miss  Fleming!  open  and 
frank  where  most  other  young  ladies,  I  should  think, 
would  be  silent.  As  you  are  so  extraordinarily  eommurii- 


294  THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

cative,  you  will  surely  not  withhold  my  successor's  name 
from  me  ?  Who  is  the  gentleman  with  plain  manners 
and  an  unflattering  tongue  who  is  so  happy  now  as  to 
have  Miss  Fleming  for  his  promised  wife  ?  " 

"  I  am  no  man's  promised  wife,  Mr.  Carew.  I  shall  nev- 
er marry  while  I  live  !  "  And  thinking  of  Paul,  all  in- 
dignation died  down  in  her  face.  "  I  began  my  life  with 
a  great  mistake  in  becoming  engaged  to  you.  I  shall 
end  it,  mistakenly,  perhaps,  still,  but  with  truth.  I  shall 
never  change  again,  and  I  shall  never  marry." 

She  was  more  than  handsome :  she  was  lovely  at  this 
moment ;  with  tears  just  quivering  in  her  dark  eyes  ;  with 
her  hot  cheeks  glowing;  with  a  suddenly-subdued,  mourn- 
ful expression  lighting  up  all  her  face.  In  the  full  flush 
of  her  careless  beauty,  in  the  midst  of  her  love  for  him  at 
Countisbury,  Oliver  had  never  so  coveted  to  possess  her 
as  —  with  the  accustomed  fatuity  of  human  nature  —  he 
did  now  that  he  had  irrevocably  lost  all  chance  of  ever 
doing  so. 

"  Esther,  forgive  me  what  I  said.  I  should  have  kept 
my  temper  better  if  I  didn't  feel  so  distractedly  miserable 
at  the  thought  of  losing  you.  Esther,  I  worft  give  you 
back  your  promise.  This  ridiculous  fancy  about  a  man 
who,  you  confess,  doesn't  love  you,  shall  not  make  my  life 
and  your  own  miserable.  I  won't  ask  you  to  marry  me 
now,  or  for  a  long  time,  if  you  choose,  only,"  —  he  carne 
close  to  her;  he  bent  down  till  she  felt  his  breath  upon 
her  cheek  ;  he  stole  his  arm  with  gentle  force  round  her 
waist  —  "  only  feel  for  me  as  you  did  last  summer  ;  only 
feel  the  childish  dream,  the  flattered  vanity,  whatever  you 
said  it  was.  I  will  trust  to  time  for  the  rest." 

He  held  her  close  ;  and  his  hand  trembled,  and  his  voice 
shook  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts  to  keep  it  steady.  For  Esther, 
although  she  never  faltered  in  the  slightest  degree  in  her 
resolution,  she  did,  at  this  moment,  feel  her  part  a  very 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  295 

hard  one  to  play  out ;  did  think  that  she  liked  Oliver  Ca- 
rew  as  much  as  was  possible  —  stopping  immeasurably 
short  of  love;  and  that  she  had  behaved  cruelly,  perfid- 
iously, wickedly  altogether  in  getting  to  like  Paul  so  much 
better  than  her  affianced  lover. 

Very  young  people  are  so  fearfully  thin-skinned :  it  is 
such  an  agony  to  them  to  have  to  sink  from  the  highest 
place  in  any  one's  good  opinion.  And  then,  Oliver  was  so 
really  and  seriously  agitated,  and  agitation  is  so  contagious. 
It  was  comparatively  easy  work  to  tell  him  everything  when 
he  was  standing  before  her  with  supercilious  affectation  of 
indifference,  and  making  sarcastic  speeches  in  depreciation 
of  their  love  and  of  its  genuineness. 

"I  couldn't  go  back  even  to  what  I  felt  last  summer; 
and  —  and  even  if  I  could,  Mr.  Carew,  I  don't  think  that 
kind  of  feeling  would  be  the  right  sort  to  begin  married 
life  with.  I  like  you  very  much  indeed,  just  I  think  as  I 
could  like  a  brother  if  I  had  one ;  but  I  look  —  don't  be 
angry  again,  please  —  I  look  upon  you  as  a  boy,  and  I 
feel  that  I  ought  to  consider  the  man  I  marry  as  superior 
to  me  in  all  things,  you  know." 

She  meant  this  as  a  kindly,  gentle  way  of  putting  his 
love  aside  and  retaining  his  friendship ;  but  not  one 
form,  out  of  the  many  stereotyped  forms  of  rejection, 
could  have  angered  Mr.  Carew  more.  Superior.  He  did 
not  stop  to  ask  himself  whether  the  implied  superiority 
were  social  or  mental,  or  only  moral  :  the  monstrous  ad- 
jective itself  was  what  utterly  staggered  him.  Superior! 
Esther  Fleming  superior  to  him!  He  loosed  his  arm,  as 
though  it  had  been  stung,  from  her  waist;  he  stood  him- 
self at  the  space  of  about  two  or  three  feet  away  from 
her ;  he  looked  straight  and  with  unspeakable  fierceness 
into  her  face. 

"  Miss  Fleming,  I  think  I  understand  you  rightly.  You 
consider  yourself  superior  to  me  ?" 


296  THE  ORDEAL   FOR    WIVES. 

"  I  never  said  so,  Mr.  Carew.  I  said  I  felt  that  the  man 
I  married  ought  to  be  superior  to  me  in  all  things." 

"  That  is  precisely  the  same  —  a  mere  play  upon  words. 
Perhaps  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  tell  me  the  exact 
tokens  of  inferiority  to  which  you  allude." 

Esther  was  never  so  pained  in  her  life.  She  had  loved, 
or  pretended  to  herself  to  love,  this  man  ;  had  promised 
to  become  his  wife ;  and  now  she  was  to  stand  and  look 
in  his  face  and,  if  she  spoke  truth  at  all,  inform  him  that 
she  looked  upon  him  as  a  well-grown  school-boy  possess- 
ing not  a  tithe  even  of  the  intellect  which  nature  had  be- 
stowed upon  herself. 

"I  would  rather  much  say  no  more,  Mr.  Carew.  All  I 
wish  is  that  we  should  part  as  friends." 

But  Mr.  Carew  had  no  such  wish.  He  interrupted  her 
angrily  as  she  attempted  to  stammer  out  some  softening 
excuses;  and  the  first  sound  of  his  voice  aroused  Esther's 
scarcely  stifled  pride. 

"You  have  mistaken  our  position  from  the  first,  Miss 
Fishing;  and,  after  what  you  have  just  said,  Lean  have 
no  delicacy  in  setting  you  right  now.  I  arn  not  the  poor 
farmer's  son  that  in  a  foolish  moment  I  represented  myself 
/THbd  you  in  Devonshire.  I  have  prospects  —  I  should 
rather  say,  I  am  in  a  position,  wholly  unsuited  to  yourself 
and  the  life  to  which  you  have  been  brought  up.  What 
these  are,  what  even  my  name  is  how  it  does  not  matter 
for  me  to  tell  you.  We  are  not  at  all  likely  to  meet  again, 
and  if  we  did,  it  would  be  a  meeting  in  which  recogni- 
tion would  be  impossible  to  us  both.  All  I  wish  to  say 
to  you  is,  that  in  giving  me  up  you  are  giving  up  a  very 
great  deal  more  than  you  can  possibly  dream  of,  and  also, 
as  I  before  said,  are  taking  the  pain  of  breaking  off  a 
most  foolish  entanglement  out  of  my  hands.  Miss  Flem- 
ing, good-bye  !  " 

I  am  very  sure  that  Oliver  Carew  was  never  so  bombas- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          297 

tic,  so  silly,  so  nearly  approaching  to  mean  vulgarity  as 
when  he  delivered  himself  of  this  speech.  But,  consider- 
ing his  age,  his  vanity,  and  the  really  great  social  advan- 
tages that  he  knew  himself  to  possess  over  Miss  Fleming, 
I  cannot  say  that  I  greatly  wonder  at  the  outbreak.  It  is 
such  a  fearfully  disgusting  thing  to  a  man  to  be  deliber- 
ately rejected  ;  such  a  fearful  humiliation,  when  he  has 
supposed  any  amount  of  human  superiority  to  rest  on  his 
side,  to  be  told  kindly,  gently,  that  he  is  too  young,  too 
mentally  inferior,  for  a  foolish  girl  of  eighteen  to  look 
up  to ! 

"Good-bye  to  you,  Miss  Fleming"  he«#epeated  grimly  ; 
<CI  will  not  intrude  myself  upon  you  any  more." 

Then  Esther  raised  her  eyes  full  to  his.  She  was  very 
quiet ;  but  she  prepared  to  speak  with  a  fixed  lip,  with  a 
scarlet  spot  bright  upon  each  cheek,  just  as  she  used  to 
be  when  she  was  a  child,  and  Miss  Joan  would  vainly  try 
to  argue  or  whip  her  into  confessing  some  fault  she  had 
not  committed. 

"  Mr.  Carew,  shall  I  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you?";'^ 
"Do  simply  what  you  please,  Miss  Fleming." 
"I  think  you  generous  and  open-hearted  up  to  a  cer^ 
tain  point — the  point  at  which  anything  like  real  self- 
sacrifice  begins.  You  would  have  held  to  your  word  and 
married  me,  in  spite  of  all  the  difference  of  position  that 
you  tell  me  of;  that  I  believe.  But  you  have  no  spark  of 
the  true  and  manly  generosity  which  should  have  made 
you  honor  me  for  breaking  our  engagement,  and  shrink 
from  saying  one  unnecessary  word  to  take  any  more  away 
from  my  self-respect.  You  are  not  superior  to  me,  Mr. 
Carew.  You  may  be  the  son  of  a  marquis  or  of  a  duke, 
but  you  are  not  superior  to  me;  and  married  to  you,  I 
should  have  daily  felt  this,  and  have  been  lowered  by  the 
thought.  You  are  young  and  good-looking;  you  say  you 
have  money  and  rank ;  there  will  be  plenty  of  young 
13* 


298  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

ladies  in  the  world  ready  to  marry  you,  but  not  one  of 
them  will  be  a  worthier  wife  to  you  than  I  should  have 
been  if  you  had  married  me." 

"  Esther,  you  have  never  loved  me." 

This  short  cutting  of  the  knot  that  she,  with  trembling 
hands,  had  awkwardly  striven  to  untie ;  this  sole  reply  to 
the  most  arrogant  speech  of  all  her  humble  life,  touched 
Esther's  conscience  more  than  any  other  six  words  that 
Oliver  Carew  could  have  chosen. 

"  I  know  I  have  not,  Mr.  Carew ;  that  was  why  I  felt 
so  ashamed  to  see  you.  I  mistook  childish  sentiment  for 
deeper  feeling,  as  I  have  already  told  you ;  and  perhaps 
if  I  had  not  happened  to  meet  with  the  person  I  have 
mentioned,  I  should  have  grown  in  time  to  care  for  you 
really." 

Hurt,  angry,  bitter  though  he  was,  Carew  did  yet,  from 
his  very  heart,  admire  Esther  at  this  moment.  It  had  done 
him  good  to  be  told  so  frankly  that  she  considered  her- 
self his  equal  notwithstanding  all  the  advantages  of  birth 
and  money  which  he  had  told  her  of.  It  did  him  good  to 
hear  her  frankly  say  that  she  had  never  really  loved  him. 
As  in  the  lonely  Devonshire  moors  she  had  inspired  him 
with  a  perfectly  new  belief  in  the  possible  child-like  puri- 
ty of  a  demoiselle  a  marier,  so  now  in  her  rejection  of 
him,  newly-acquired  rank  and  riches  and  all,  she  afforded 
him  —  the  young,  the  sought  after,  the  spoilt  Belgravian 
hero  — -  an  insight  he  had  certainly  never  had  before  into 
the  simple  disinterestedness  of  which  some  human  hearts 
are  capable. 

"  I  was  wrong  to  speak  to  you  as  I  did,  Miss  Fleming. 
Will  you  forgive  me  before  we  part  ?  Remember  I  am 
more  hardly  placed  than  you,  for  I  have  never  changed." 

"  Forgive  you  ?  Oh,  Mr.  Carew,  oh,  Oliver,  it  is  I  that 
have  every  need  to  be  forgiven  !  All  I  wish  most  now 
is  that  we  should  part  friends.  After  —  after  having  liked 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         299 

each  other  so  much,  there  is  something  dreadful  to  me 
in  the  thought  of  our  using  such  words  to  each  other  as 
we  have  done." 

She  looked  so  irresistibly  handsome,  pleading  to  him, 
with  her  softened  eyes  and  upturned  face,  that  Oliver 
found  it  no  hard  matter  in  spite  of  all  his  smarting  vanity 
to  take  her  hand  and  hold  it  and  make  his  peace  at  once, 
and  entirely. 

Human  nature  is  so  constituted  that  the  bitterest  quar- 
rel, the  most  final  rupture,  of  a  very  young  man  and  a 
very  handsome  woman,  shall  have  more  of  love  than  of 
any  other  element  in  its  composition.  They  were  parting 
for  ever ;  and  Esther  had  deliberately  rejected  him  ;  and 
the  pride  of  both  had  been  wounded  to  the  quick  within 
the  last  quarter  of  an  hour :  and  yet,  as  Carew  left  the 
house,  he  felt  that  he  would  willingly  give  up  all  his  newly- 
inherited  wealth  and  rank  to  be  able  to  call  Esther  his ; 
while  Esther,  strong-minded  though  she  believed  herself, 
cried  bitter  tears,  half  for  herself,  half  for  Oliver,  well  on 
into  the  dawn  of  the  next  winter  day. 

If  women  were  to  act  instead  of  weep  during  the  first 
twelve  hours  of  reaction,  I  believe  very  few  lovers  would 
find  their  dismissal  to  be  irrevocable. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

A  LOVER  IN  SPITE  OF  HIMSELF. 

BUT  when  all  reaction  was  over;  when  she  was  able 
from  the  solitude  of  Countisbury  to  look  back  dispassion- 
ately upon  her  conduct ;  Esther  Fleming  knew  that  she 
would  not  recal  Oliver  if  she  could,  knew  that  she  had 


300  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

never  lovecl  him,  knew  that  even  her  recollection  of  him, 
like  every  other  thought  and  feeling  of  her  nature,  was 
becoming  merged  in  one  dream  —  one  hopeless,  one 
haunting,*  half-miserable,  half-delicious  dream  —  her  pas- 
sion for  Paul. 

I  say  "  passion  "  advisedly.  Of  the  sentiments  exchang- 
ed between  Miss  Fleming  and  Mr.  Carew  among  the 
moors,  1  confess  frankly  my  inability  to  speak  ;  but  in  com- 
mon, I  fancy,  with  yourself,  oh  reader  of  ordinary  experi- 
ence, and  more  than  five-and-twenty  years,  I  feel  myself 
tolerably  competent  to  interpret  the  symptoms  of  that  real 
and  malignant  disorder  which  had  overtaken  Esther  now. 

Shall  we  go  through  a  record  of  them  ? —  the  old,  old 
story  ;  the  burning  pain  ;  the  torturing  jealousy  ;  the  .de- 
lirious dreams  from  which  reason  perpetually  wakes  up 
the  sleeper  with  so  sharp  a  stab  of  memory?  Ah,  well, 
'tis  the  one  date  that  never  quite  grows  old  !  The  senti- 
mental, and,  I  am  ready  to  admit  the  fairest,  purest, 
brightest  side  of  love  is  a  blank  to  most  of  us  many  years 
before  thirty ;  but  no  man  or  woman  can  ever  quite  rake 
out  the  ashes  of  that  one  portion  of  their  lives  when  a 
strong  and  utterly  hopeless  passion  held  them  in  its 
grasp. 

You  deny  this,  madam,  I  know.  You  aver  that  the 
blooming  spring,  when  you  were  engaged  to  poor  Captain 
Johnson,  unfortunately  drowned  off  the  coast  of  China, 
and  the^subsequent  summer,  when  dear,  good  SirObediah, 
your  present  happy  possessor,  was  paying  his  addresses  to 
you,  are  the  seasons  to  which,  from  your  calm  unruffled  mat- 
ronhoocl,  you  look  back,  whenever  you  are  foolish  enough 
to  look  back  to  these  sort  of  things  at  all.  But  what  of 
that  packet  of  blurred  letters  that  you  burnt  the  night 
before  you  married  Sir  Obediah  ?  What  of  the  marginal 
annotations  that  may  yet  be  faintly  trnced  upon  the  pages 
of  your  unread  Shelly?  What  of  the  fierce  spasm  at 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        3Q1 

your  heart  upon  that  one  evening  of  the  year  that  you 
(and  only  another  in  the  world  save  you)  know  to  be  an 
anniversary?  Those  two  sanctioned  matrimonial  engage- 
ments, delightful  though  they  must  have  been,  and  credit- 
able to  your  character  as  a  daughter  and  everything  else, 
are  not,  madam,  permit  me  to  say,  the  seasons  burnt  in 
upon  your  memory.  Do  you  recollect  distinctly  the  color 
of  poor  Captain  Johnson's  hair?  Do  you  remember  in 
the  least  clearly  what  Sir  Obediah  used  to  say  during 
those  lengthy  afternoons  when  you  had  to  submit  to  the 
affianced  endearments  within  the  sacred  precincts  of  your 
mamma's  back  drawing-room?  Time  and  change  and 
children  wipe  out  all  such  nonsense  from  one's  heart, 
you  say.  But  then,  they  do  not  wipe  out  the  details  of 
those  dark  November  nights  when  you  used  to  sit,  hour 
after  hour,  waiting  with  sickening  eagerness  to  catch  the 
first  sound  of  a  footfall  on  the  pavement,  the  first  sight  of 
a  face  which,  even  while  you  looked  upon  it,  you  knew 
could  ne^er  in  truth  be  anything  to  you. 

Don't  you  know  that  a  painter  will  look  back  with  a 
more  tender  yearning  to  his  ambitious  first  picture  that  the 
critics  laughed  at,  than  to  all  the  great  works  by  which 
his  name  has  been  won  ?  that  the  poem  which  the  world 
rejects  is  the  headstone  of  the  temple  in  the  poet's  own 
heart?  Tis  simply  an  inherent  part  of  human  nature  to 
remember  the  passionate,  the  miserable,  the  disappointed 
seasons  of  our  lives  more  clearly  than  any  other.  And 
being  a  part  of  our  nature,  there  is  nothing  especially  to 
deny  or  blush  at  in  the  fact.  You  are  no  worse  wife  to 
Sir  Obediah  because,  once  in  three  years,  you  look  at  the 
marginal  notes  upon  the  pages  of  your  unread  Shelley, 
or  because,  sitting  among  your  children  in  the  quiet  au- 
tumn night,  all  the  feverish  unrest,  all  the  madness,  all 
the  pain  of  those  November  nights  of  a  dozen  years  ago, 
come  back  to  you  so  vividly  ! 


302  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

And  as  the  hopeless  passion  of  our  own  lives  is  the  one 
that  does  not  die  for  us,  so  the  hopeless  passion  of  others 
are  the  only  ones  in  which,  as  grown  men  and  women, 
we  take  anything  like  abiding  and  hearty  interest.  Look 
at  all  the  great  love-stories  of  the  world  —  from  Helen 
to  Maggie  Tulliver :  is  not  every  one  of  their  heroines  in 
love  with  another  man  than  the  rightful  hero?  and- isn't 
that  fatal  infidelity  just  what  we  care  most  to  hear  about  ?  - 

Esther  Fleming  was  not  in  any  respect  a  Helen  ;  nor 
was  she  much  of  a  heroine  at  all ;  but  her  passion  for 
Paul  was  as  strong,  poor  child,  as  the  strictest  exigencies 
of  art  could  demand.  She  knew  that  he  would  never 
marry  her ;  worse,  that  he  was  bound  by  ties  stronger 
than  death  to  another  woman ;  also  that,  in  all  human 
probability,  she  would  never  again  feel  the  pressure  of 
his  hand,  never  hear  the  sound  of  his  voice  while  she 
lived. 

And  over  that  thought  she  brooded  and  sickened  ;  sick- 
ened through  the  long  bright  summer,  through'  autumn, 
through  winter.  Month  succeeded  month  in  ever-increas- 
ing nauseous  monotony,  and  still  her  passion  grew  and 
strengthened.  In  time  she  got  to  portion  out  the  day 
and  night  into  hours,  giving  to  each  hour  some  imaginary 
employment  for  Paul,  and  in  imagination  living  it  out  by 
his  side.  Can  you  imagine  the  desperate  jealous  misery 
that  would  follow  upon  such  a  plan  ?  Waking  or  sleep- 
ing, at  noonday  or  at  midnight,  he  was  never  thoroughly 
absent  from  her  thoughts ;  and  yet  every  thought  of  him 
was  still  an  image  disconnected  with  herself;  nay,  more, 
was  directly  opposed  to  the  possibility  of  his  ever  loving 
her. 

If  she  could  only  see  him  —  her  heart  would  cry  out 
in  its  bitterness  —  only  see  him,  only  breathe  the  same 
air  he  breathed,  only  live  in  London,  in  some  street  where 
she  might,  once  or  twice  a  month,  perhaps,  see  him  walk 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  3Q3 

past  her  window,- she  thought  she  could  bear  her  burden. 
To  see  him,  to  be  near  him,  might  lay  this  phantom  which 
her  imagination  seemed  never  tired  of  calling  up  with 
such  cruel  force,  such  mockery  of  life,  in  his  absence. 

A  man  or  woman  who  could  succumb  thus  at  five-and- 
twenty  to  any  grief,  not  strictly  and  exclusively  personal, 
must  be  exceeding  near  a  fool ;  but  in  a  girl  of  eighteen 
this  very  intensity  of  prostration,  this  immense  capacity 
for  suffering,  was  a  sign  of  strength.  In  proportion  to 
the  fierceness  of  the  conflict  would  be  the  profoundness 
of  the  peace  when  it  came. 

During  the  dull  winter  days,  when  she  would  sit  gaz- 
ing unoccupied  from  her  window  upon  the  drf ary  waste 
of  moorland  round  the  house  ;  during  the  sleepless  nights, 
when  she  walked  feverishly  up  and  down  before  the  pic- 
ture which  she  called  Paul's,  in  her  little  room,  the  cry 
would  burst  involuntarily  from  her  hot  lips  —  "Let  me 
cease  to  suffer  :  let  me  cease  to  have  this  capability  of  lov- 
ing ! "  And  then  his  face  would  come  before  her ;  in  an 
instant  she  would  hear  his  voice  ;  feel  all  the  poisonous  in- 
toxication of  his  presence,  and  shudder  lest  her  prayer  be 
answered.  Better  die  than  lose  him  utterly  !  Better  go 
through  every  accumulated  pang  that  every  successive 
hopeless  day  brought  to  her,  than  outlive  her  love,  and  go 
back  to  such  a  peace  as  the  only  one  possible  for  her 
must  be  —  the  dead  lethargy  of  indifference  ! 

Now,  strong  though  her  love  undoubtedly  was,  I  am 
far  from  thinking  that  Esther  Fleming  could  have  suffer- 
ed thus  had  she  been  living  in  any  ordinary  round  of  so- 
cial life  instead  of  the  Devonshire  moors.  You  may 
suffer,  God  knows !  as  much  in  London  or  Paris  as  in  the 
remotest  country  village  of  Yorkshire ;  but  you  suffer 
differently.  More  keenly,  I  think,  while  it  lasts,  but  with 
an  anguish  that  is  much  sooner  over.  You  put  your  skel- 
eton assiduously  out  of  sight  for  a  great  many  hours,  at 


304  THE  ORDEJ1L  FOR    WIVES. 

least,  out  of  the  twenty-four.  You  dress,  ride,  talk,  dine, 
dance,  flirt  during  each  interval  between  the  hours  when 
you  and  your  skeleton  stand  face  to  face  ;  and,  sharp 
work  though  it  may  be  at  first  to  go  through  all  these 
duties,  you  finish  by  finding  that  they  have  done  one 
good  service  to  you  —  helped  you,  marvellously  quickly, 
to  be  untrue  to  yourself!  In  the  country  you  not  only 
have  positively  nothing  to  take  you  from  your  trouble  ; 
you  have  time  to  idealize  it.  As  solitude  had  developed 
Esther's  fancy  for  Mr.  Carew  into  what,  had  she  never 
met  Paul,  would  have  passed  for  love,  so  now  jt  develop- 
ed her  love  for  Paul  himself  into  passion  :  passion  height- 
ened, of  (fburse,  by  its  hopelessness  and  absolute  sever- 
ance from  its  object. 

Neither  Joan  nor  David  could  be  blind  to  the  change  in 
her.  David,  poor  fellow,  on  her  first  return  had  ventured 
once  to  comment  on  her  pale  cheeks  and  sobered  spirits, 
accounting  for  the  symptoms,  in  his  simple  way,  by  the 
intensity  of  her  regard  for  Mr.  Carew,  the  amount  of 
emotion  she  must  have  sustained  on  meeting  him  again. 
Her  answer  undeceived  him  promptly  :  — 

"  I  feel  nothing  whatever  about  Mr.  Carew.  I  am  en- 
gaged to  him  no  longer.  We  found  out  our  mistake  mu- 
tually, and  remedied  it  in  the  only  way  possible.  Please, 
David,  never  mention  Mr.  Carew,  or  love,  or  any  such 
folly  to  me  again.  If  I  suffer,  I  like  to  suffer  silently.  It 
will  all  be  over  before  long." 

Such  an  answer  was  enough  for  David,  and  he  succum- 
bed to  it,  and  got  accustomed  to  Esther's  pale  cheek,  and 
silent  tongue,  and  joyless  tread  :  indeed,  if  I  mistake  not, 
was  sensible  of  a  certain  selfish  satisfaction  in  seeing  her 
thus,  and  in  thinking  that  her  love,  by  whatever  violent 
death  it  had  died,  was  dead  — her  heart,  however  misera- 
ble, untenanted.  This  pale,  listless  woman  was,  after  all, 
nearer  to  him  than  the  blooming  girl  had  been  —  the  girl 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        3Q5 

full  of  life  and  the  dreams  of  life,  wandering  through  the 
woods  where  she  had  walked  with  Oliver,  and  making 
him,  whether  he  willed  it  or  no,  the  confidant  of  her 
hopes. 

But  Joan,  being  a  woman,  and  consequently  not  in  love 
with  Esther,  saw  much  nearer  into  the  truth.  If  the  girl, 
of  her  own  free  will,  did  not  choose  to  marry  Oliver  — 
and  this  much-persevering  endeavor  had  enabled  Miss 
Joan  to  worm  out  —  her  pallor  and  silence  and  listlessness 
could  none  of  them  be  laid  to  Mr.  Carew's  charge.  You 
might  fret  for  a  week  or  so  after  the  termination  of  an 
idiotic  fancy,  Miss  Joan  argued  ;  but  you  wouldn't  go 
pale  for  months,  and  heave  long  sighs,  when  you  should 
be  taking  your  food  with  an  appetite,  and  walk  up  and 
down  your  bedroom  till  morning  (as  she  often  heard  Es- 
ther do)  unless  some  faint  spark,  if  not  of  hope,  of  ex- 
pectation, mingled  still  with  your  grief. 

Joan  Engleheart's  personal  experiences  of  love  were 
scant :  an  attorney's  clerk,  seen  for  two  days  at  seventeen, 
and  David  Engleheart  now,  being  the  raw  material  out  of 
which  they  were  fashioned.  But  women,  the  hardest,  the 
least  loved  of  them,  possess  inspirations,  that  come  not  to 
the  aid  of  men,  in  the  art  of  uprooting  the  secrets  of 
other  persons'  love  affairs.  Before  Esther  had  returned 
six  weeks  Joan  knew  that  she  was  in  love  with  another 
man  than  Oliver;  by  winter  all  that  she'needed  to  learn 
was  the  name  of  Oliver's  successor.  Of  his  existence  she 
was  as  convinced  as  she  was  of  her  own  determination  to 
marry  David,  or  of  any  other  accomplished  fact  of  her 
life. 

One  December  afternoon,  the  snow  falling  thick,  the 
bitter  night  already  gathering  on  the  hills,  Miss  Engle- 
heart abruptly  walked  into  Esther's  bedroom. 

The  girl  was  sitting  there  as  usual ;  no,  more  acutely 
suffering  than  usual,  for  she  had  received  a  letter  that  day 


306  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

from  Jane  Dash  wood  in  which  Paul's  name  was  carelessly, 
mentioned  ;  and  when  Joan  entered  she  never  sought  to 
explain  why  she  was  leaning  against  the  window  without 
work  or  book  in  her  hands,  but  turned  her  face  almost 
sullenly  towards  the  pane,  against  which  the  drifting 
snow  was  beating  with  the  unutterably  dreary  sound  that 
only  the  indwellers  of  a  home  twelve  miles  away  from 
the  nearest  market-town  can  appreciate. 

Miss  Engleheart  walked  straight  up  to  the  little  old  en- 
graving —  whose  position  had  mysteriously  changed  of 
late,  being  now  exactly  opposite  Esther's  bed  —  and  star- 
ed at  it  intently. 

"  I  don't  see  the  good  of  keeping  that  rubbishing  old 
print  any  longer,"  she  remarked,  incisively.  "The  frame 
wouldn't  be  bad,  re-gilt  with  some  of  the  stuff  out  of 
David's  bottle  ;  and  I'll  mount  that  nice  little  drawing  of 
Hatherton  school  and  put  it  in  for  you." 

And  Joan  raised  her  hand  to  the  picture. 

Then  Esther  turned  round  with  flushing  face  and  kind- 
ling eyes. 

"  That  print  is  mine,  Joan.  You  called  it  mine  when  I 
was  a  child,  and  mine  I  have  always  considered  it.  I 
don't  want  it  touched.  It  isn't  rubbish.  The  drawing  of 
Hatherton  school  is  rubbish.  I  should  hate  to  look  at 
it," 

"You  are  aware,  I  suppose,  that  you  were  born  at 
Hatherton,  Esther  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  aware  of  it,  Joan.  If  there  was  one  thing 
wanting  to  make  me  detest  the  drawing  it  would  be 
found  in  the  fact  that  I  was  born  at  Hatherton." 

"  By  which  amiable  speech  you  mean  me  to  infer  that 
you  wish  you  had  never  been  born  at  all,  I  conclude?" 

"  I  don't  think  I  wanted  you  to  infer  anything,  cousin. 
Life  isn't  so  very  delightful  that  one  needs  an  especial 
memorial  of  the  place  where  one  first  entered  upon  it,  I 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          3Q7 

think.  For  the  rest,  I  like  the  little  portrait  in  that  old 
frame.  I  like  it  better  than  anything  else  I  possess,  and 
I  don't  wish  it  interfered  with." 

"  Which  of  your  friends  do  you  consider  it  like, 
child?" 

Esther  turned  her  face  again  to  the  window. 

"  The  snow  lies  deep  in  all  the  drifts  already,  Joan.  I 
never  saw  it  yet  lie  so  deep  before  New-year's  day.  We 
shall  have  a  fearful  winter." 

"  We  shall  have  a  cold  one,  Esther.  You  used  to  be 
never  tired  of  the  hard  weather,  and  the  frost  and  snow, 
and  your  walks  upon  the  frozen  moors  with  David.  Per- 
haps the  winter  wouldn't  seem  such  a  fearful  prospect  to 
you  if  you  were  to  try  to  employ  yourself  as  you  used." 

"I  don't  see  that  there  is  anything  for  me  to  do,  Joan. 
I  read  as  much  as  I  can  read  every  day;  I  walk  out 
regularly ;  I  do  all  you  ask  me  to  do  about  the  house." 

"  And  take  not  an  iota  of  interest  in  anything,  Esther. 
You  read,  you  walk,  you  work,  mechanically ;  and  then 
steal  away  to  this  cold  room,  without  a  fire,  and  sit,  star- 
ing intently  out  of  the  window,  or  gazing  up  at  yonder 
old  fool  in  the  picture-frame,  by  the  hour  together. 
Whose  face  do  you  consider  it  like,  child  ?  Tell  me  that; 
and  I  shall  know  as  much  as  I  care  to  know  of  your 
secret ;  —  only  don't  go  through  the  unnecessary  deceit 
of  saying  that  you  think  it  like  Mr.  Oliver  Carew." 

"  I  never  say  things  that  are  not  true,  as  you  know  per- 
fectly well,  cousin.  That  little  engraving  is  like  — "  and 
chilled  though  her  blood  was,  it  rushed  hotly  here  to  Es- 
ther's face  —  "like  some  one  I  met  while  I  was  with  Aunt 
Thalia  last  year.  His  name  doesn't  matter.  You  will 
never  see  him  :  in  all  probability  I  shall  myself  never  see 
him  again  while  I  live." 

Miss  Engleheart  bent  her  face  forward,  and  looked 
straight  as  an  arrow  between  the  girl's  eyes. 


308  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Esther,"  she  remarked,  curtly,  after  carrying  on  this 
agreeable  process  for  about  two  minutes,  "  I  mean  you  to 
leave  Countisbury." 

"  Cousin  Joan  !" 

"  You  shall  go  out,  as  you  have  often  wished  to  do,  as 

governess ;  or  I  will  write  and  ask  Jemima  Watson  to 
1  vite  you  to  Hatherton,  which,  considering  that  she  is 
your  own  mother's  cousin-german,  and  has  never  given 
you  anything  but  a  three-and-sixpenny  Bible  in  her  life, 
wouldn't  be  so  very  much  for  her  to  do  ;  but  leave  home 
you  shall.  I  know  the  kind  of  effect  that  pining  for  love 
will  have  upon  a  girl  of  your  age ;  and  after  the  way  thrft 
I  have  brought  you  up,  and  your  getting  so  well  over 
measles,  and  scarlatina,  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  But  this  is 
what  comes  of  fashionable  schools  and  gay  Bath  acquain- 
tances. A  year  and  a  half  ago  you  were  a  hearty  country 
girl,  full  of  honest  enjoyment  in  your  e very-day  life,  and 
now  —  " 

"  Now,"  finished  Esther,  as  Miss  Joan  rose  and  com- 
menced a  vicious  tattoo  with  her  sharp  fingers  upon  the 
window-panes,  — "  now  I  am  useless  and  without  spirit, 
and  the  duties  and  amusements  of  my  life  are  alike  with- 
out taste  to  me.  There's  no  use  in  our  telling  untruths  to 
each  other,  Joan  ;  it  has  never  answered  since  I  was  a 
child  ;  we  won't  begin  it  now.  You  may  or  may  not  be 
right  in  saying  that  I  am  pining  for  love,  but  you  are  per- 
fectly correct  in  your  description  of  my  state ;  and  I  be- 
lieve you  are  right  in  saying  I  should  leave  home.  Only, 
not  to  Jemima  Watson,  cousin  —  not  to  another  country- 
house  and  to  more  idleness  and  brooding.  I  want  work  : 
if  work  lay  before  me,  I  would  do  it ;  yes,  and  in  time  get 
a  kind  of  consolation  out  of  it." 

She  threw  the  book  aside  that  had  been  lying  in  her 
listless  hands  ;  then  walked  opposite  to  the  little  picture 
•  and  standing  there,  seemed  to  take  silent  counsel  with 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        3QQ 

that  unknown  face.  Did  it  comfort  her  ?  did  a  sudden 
hope  of  meeting  Paul  —  bound  to  another  woman,  irrevo- 
cably severed  from  her  although  he  might  be  —  thrill 
through  her  heart  ?  I  think  too  well  of  Esther's  princi- 
ples to  give  her  credit  for  succumbing  to  so  lax  an  im- 
pulse; but  I  am  bound  to  say  that  her  numbed  hands  had 
suddenly  grown  warm  with  life  ;  that  a  genial  sensation 
was  stirring  at  her  heart  again ;  that  on  all  her  face,  even 
in  that  dim  light,  there  were  visible  signs  to  Miss  Joan  of 
the  old  hearty  childish  interest  in  a  new  and  welcome 
plan. 

"  Talk  of  love,  talk  of  constancy  !  "  she  observed  to 
David,  ten  minutes  afterwards ;  for  Joan  was  too  acute  a 
judge  of  human  nature,  too  practised  a  tactician  ever  to 
push  up  any  advantage  too  close  at  first ;  and  instead  of 
stopping  to  argue  with  Esther,  had  swooped^  down  upon 
David  at  once,  in  his  little  study,  with  the  fell  news  of 
the  girl's  approaching  departure.  "  Love  !  constancy  !  in 
a  girl  of  nineteen.  Yes,  as  much  of  it  as  you  choose,  and 
to  as  great  a  number  of  men  in  rotation.  First,  love  and 
constancy  to  Carew ;  then,  for  the  last  six  months,  love 
and  constancy  to  this  fool  of  whom  this  engraving  keeps 
her  in  mind ;  and  now,  flushing  cheeks  and  dancing  eyes 
at  the  first  word  of  going  from  home,  and  so  running  a 
chance  of  adding  another  name  to  the  list.  I'll  tell  you 
what  it  is,  David  Engleheart,"  and  Miss  Joan  turned  her 
back  to  the  hearth  in  a  manner  not  usually  affected  by 
the  softer  sex,  "  romance  is  a  very  pretty  thing,  and  youth 
and  beauty  are  very  pretty  things;  but  we  are  too  old 
and  plain  and  stupid  to  understand  them,  or  to  try  to 
keep  them  under  our  wing  any  longer.  Esther  must  leave 
Countisbury." 

"I  don't  think  I  understand  you,  Joan." 

"  Then  I  will  be  perfectly  straight-forward  and  above- 
f  board,  David."  Oh,  how  the  poor  wretch  winced  at  this 


310  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

well-known  preamble  to  any  of  Joan's  most  cutting  speech- 
es. "  I  will  be  perfectly  straightforward.  You  are  past 
forty-three  years  of  age ;  Esther  Fleming  is  nineteen. 
You  have  thought  yourself  in  love  with  her  for  the  last 
two  years.  She  has  befooled  you,  unintentionally,  mind, 
I  say  no  harm  of  the  child,  but  befooled  you,  as  every  young 
girl  must  befool  a  blind,  besotted  man  of  middle  age  who 
puts  himself  in  the  idiotic  position  that  you  have  done. 
It  is  high  time  that  all  this  should  end ;  and  it  shall  end.' 
I  have  decided  so  this  evening." 

"  Yes,  Joan,  yes,"  he  faltered  meekly.  "  Esther  is  to 
go  away  away  a  little.  I  understand." 

"  Esther  is  to  go  away  for  a  year,"  said  Joan,  utterly 
ignoring  him  and  his  remark  too.  "  Her  friend,  Miss 
Dashwood,  will,  she  tells  me,  be  ready  to  find  her  a  sit- 
uation ;  and  it  will  do  the  girl  good  —  brace  up  her  ener- 
gies, teach  her  not  to  sentimentalize  —  to  be  away  for  a 
certain  appointed  time^from  home,  and  thrown  upon  her 
own  resources.  After  the  year  is  over  she  shall  come  back 
if  she  chooses.  My  mother's  house,  and  after  her  death 
mine,  will  always  be  open  to  Esther.  If  she  finds  that  a 
life  among  strangers  suits  her,  let  her  keep  to  it,  in  God's 
name.  If  not,  she  shall  return  to  Countisbury  and  carry 
out  a  plan  of  honest  independence  which  I  have  often  hud 
upon  my  mind.  Yes,  the  whole  thing  is  settled." 

Miss  Joan  turned  round,  seized  the  poker,  and  gave 
one  fearful  stroke  into  the  heart  of  the  fire ;  then,  with 
the  blazing  embers  lighting  up  every  line  of  his  awe- 
stricken  face,  she  leant  over  and  confronted  her  unhappy 
kinsman  full. 

"David  Engleheart ! "  she  ejaculated  "if  you  had  the 
heart,  if  you  had  the  common  spirit  of  a  man,  you  would 
speak  now  ! " 

"  Speak,  Joan  ?  "  he  echoed,  passively.  "  I  have  got 
nothing  to  say.  Perhaps  'tis  all  for  the  best  that  Esther 
should  go  away  for  a  time." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  3H 

"  And  you  think  that  kind  of  foolish  subterfuge  will 
avail  you  now  ?  You  think  "  —  she  let  fall  the  poker  full 
upon  his  outstretched,  slippered  feet  —  "  that  I  am  to  be 
blinded  any  more  by  your  convenient  assumption  of  child- 
ish simplicity  ?  No,  Mr.  Engleheart,  no  ;  I  can  assure 
you  that  from  this  night  forth  everything  in  this  house  is 
going  to  be  placed  upon  an  entirely  different  footing ! 
You  must  declare  yourself  or  we  part.  I  have  looked 
after  you  like  a  child  for  fifteen  years,  put  up  with  your 
ways  and  your  whims  and  your  tempers,"  —  he  wrung  his 
hands  in  feeble  deprecation  — "  and,  which  was  worse, 
have  witnessed  your  infatuated  hankering  after  a  girl  who 
might  be  your  grandchild." 

"Grandchild?*  Oh  lord,  Joan,  draw  it  milder,  draw  it 
milder !  Grandchild  ?  why,  I  am  only  forty-three,  and 
Esther  near  upon  nineteen.  I  couldn't  well  have  mar- 
ried at  five  years  old —  you  must  allow  that  ?  " 

"Your  indecent  jests  do  not  for  one  moment  turn  me 
aside  from  the  subject,  sir,  and  are  most  especially  ill- 
timed  and  brutal  upon  your  lips  !  "  And  here  hundreds 
of  little  spiteful  bones,  unknown  to  anatomists,  seemed  to 
be  called  into  sudden  action  in  the  region  of  Miss  Joan's 
neck  as  she  dipped  her  head  forward,  after  the  manner 
of  some  ferocious  bird,  athwart  her  helpless  prey.  "  What 
I  said,  I  repeat.  I've  looked  after  you  like  a  child, 
and  pampered  you,  and  slaved  for  you,  for  fifteen  years  ; 
and  now,  after  it  all,  I  am  not,  —  no,  Mr.  Engleheart,  I 
am  not  going  to  be  trifled  with  any  longer." 

David  sprang  to  his  feet,  with  a  curdling  terror  that 
Miss  Engleheart  was  going  to  seat  herself  upon  his  knees, 
and  pushed  his  ten  fingers  wildly  up  through  his  lanky 
hair. 

"  What,  in  God's  name,  do  you  mean,  Joan  ?  and  what 
do  you  want?  Trifled  with  you!  great  heavens!  have  I 
ever  tried  — have  I  ever  wanted  —  to  trifle  with  you  in  any 
way  whatever  ?  I  —  If  You  must  be  dreaming,  Joan." 


312  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

But  he  knew  very  well  she  was  not ;  he  knew  well  the 
old  terror  of  two  winters  back  was  culminating  in  a  tan- 
gible form,  and  his  eyes  glazed  with  hopeless  and  abject 
terror.  What  if  she  should  take  him  in  her  arms,  kiss 
him,  affiance  herself  to  him,  marry  him,  for  aught  he  knew 
—  marry  him  this  very  night,  standing  there  in  his  slippers  ! 

"All  that  friendship  can  dictate,  cousin  Joan!  I  —  I 
mean,  you  know,  you've  been  very  good  and  taken  care 
of  me  and  my  clothes  and  everything  —  and  I'm  very 
grateful,  I'm  sure !  Shake  hands,  please,  and  don't  let's 
say  any  more  about  it.  I  —  I  —  I  —  " 

"You,  you,  you  are  a  base,  perjured,  infamous  man  if 
you  leave  this  room  without  declaring  yourself,  David 
Engleheart !  Look  me  in  the  face  like  a  man,  if  you  dare, 
and  tell  me  you  don't  know  how  we  stand  to  each  other ! 
If  you  hadn't  a  heart  of  stone  you'd  speak  now,  for  Es- 
ther's sake,  you  would.  Monster  !  " 

"  For  Esther's  sake,?     Oh   lord,  Joan,  say  everything 
plain  and  out  if  you  please.     For  Esther's   sake  !     I'm  — 
I'm  —  no,  I  don't  see  it !     I'll  be  hanged   if  I  do,  and  I 
never  shall  see  it !     For  Esther's  sake  — " 

"  You  should  establish  her  a  respectable  home  if,  after 
the  first  year,  she  doesn't  continue  to  like  her  life  as  a 
governess.  My  mother's  great  age,  as  you  perfectly  well 
know,  makes  her  life  a  thing  of  utter  uncertainty.  Any 
day,  without  illness  or  warning,  she  might  die ;  and  then, 
I  ask  you,  if  indeed  you  have  the  capacity  for  reflection, 
to  answer  where  would  Esther  Fleming's  home  be  ?  " 

o 

"  Why,  here,  of  course.  When  poor  Aunt  Engleheart 
departs,  as  in  the  common  course  of  nature  'tis  but  likely 
she,  some  day,  must,  you  and  I  won't,  in  all  human  prob- 
ability, die  on  the  same  day,  Joan,  eh  ?  " 

"And  you   think,  you  think  that  I  should  continue   to 
live  with  you  —  no  blood-relation,  even  —  and  my  moth 
er  gone?     Mr.  Engleheart,  your  coarse  jests  have  already 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        gJ3 

taught  me  what  you  consider  to  be  humor.     You  now  in 
suit  me  with  your  low  immorality.     1  live  with  you  unless 
my  mother's  presence  sanctioned  it  ?     Oh  !  —  " 

Miss  Engleheart  planted  herself  well  between  David 
and  the  door;  folded  her  arms  across  her  breast,  and  be- 
gan —  one  touch  of  love  makes  the  whole  sex  kin  —  to 
cry  ;  yes  —  horrible  though  it  was  to  look  upon  —  to 
shed  positive  tangible  tears. 

And  then  David  Engleheart  knew  that  his  hour  was 
come.  He  could  have  resisted  much,  under  other  circiim- 
stances ;  but  Joan  weeping,  and  standing  with  her  back 
tight  against  the  door,  and  demanding  of  him  to  marry 
her,  was  a  combination  to  withstand  which  the  powers 
heaven  bestowed  on  David  were  utterly  insufficient. 

"  If  you  really  wish,  Joan  —  I  mean  if  you  think  it  pos- 
sible anybody  could  be  any  happier  by  such  an  arrange- 
ment —  and  that  you'd  be  good  to  Esther,  you  know  — 
never  hard  or  jealous  of  her  any  more  —  but  give  her  a 
home  here  as  long  as  she  chooses  to  remain  in  it,  why  of 
course  —  of  course  —  I'd  be  very  happy.  I  mean,  in  time, 
you  know,  when  I've  got  rather  more  used  to  the  thought, 
and  so  on  !  " 

It  was  not  perhaps  the  response  of  a  very  impassioned 
lover,  but  Joan  found  no  fault  with  it ;  and  when  Esther 
came  in  to  tea,  half  an  hour  later,  she  found  David  seated 
at  work  at  his  writing-table  as  usual ;  Miss  Joan  vigor- 
ously casting  up  her  clothing-club  accounts  at  the  further 
corner  of  the  room. 

Miss  Engleheart  had  sense :  fairer  and  younger  women 
might  profit  by  her  example.  Having  once  got  your  fish 
upon  the  hook,  let  him  rest  awhile.  When  a  man  has 
promised  to  marry  you,  don't  drive  him  to  madness  by 
demanding  any  work  of  supererogation  at  his  hands. 
14 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

MILLY'S  SUCCESSES. 

THE  twelvemonth  that  had  passed  in  pain  and  monot- 
ony to  Esther  Fleming  had  been  an  eventful,  an  eminent- 
ly successful  one  to  the  two  Miss  Dashwoods.  As  I  am 
writing  Esther's  story,  not  theirs,  I  do  not  need,  here  at 
least,  to  enter  upon  the  details  of  their  successes.  Let 
the  facts  tell  their  own  story.  At  the  time  when  Joan  re- 
solved that  Esther  should  leave  Countisbury,  Jane  had 
been  engaged  —  really,  openly,  substantially  engaged  — 
to  a  man  of  birth  and  fortune,  for  the  last  three  months ; 
while  Milly,  poor  little  innocent,  undesigning  Milly,  was 
already  a  married  woman,  with  a  fair  settlement,  a  Lon- 
don house,  and  an  undeniable  position  of  her  own. 

But  not  with  John  Alexander  for  her  husband.  Milli- 
cent  had  just  begun  to  decide  that  the  home  life  of  an 
English  maiden,  however  pretty  to  read  of  in  nice  little 
high-church  fictions,  was  not  one  which  she  cared  to  con- 
tinue indefinitely;  and  that,  sooner  than  go  on  like  Jane, 
year  after  year,  each  filled  with  a  series  of  domestic  con- 
tentions and  fruitless  triumphs,  she  would  even  take  John 
Alexander  —  lack  of  aspirates,  lack  of  ancestors,  ungainly 
person  and  all  —  for  a  husband.  Millicent's  sensible  and 
not  sentimental  mind  had,  I  say,  just  arrived  at  these 
conclusions,  and  she  was  beginning  to  give  Mr.  Smithett 
unlimited  encouragement  at  every  public  place  where  she 
chanced  to  meet  him,  when  another  actor  appeared  on  the 
scene,  and  in  less  than  a  fortnight  her  plastic  affections 
were  definitely  and  legitimately  engaged. 

There   are  men  (heavy   obtuse   men,  only   thoroughly 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  315 

awake  to  the  merits  in  themselves  which  nobody  e]se  dis- 
cover) who  are  wonderfully  easy  to  win  when  an  already 
half-snared  prey  serves  as  decoy-duck  to  the  lure.  Mr. 
Marmaduke  Scott  was  one  of  these.  He  came  to  Bath, 
proposing  to  stay  a  fortnight ;  saw  Millicent  Dashwood's 
pretty  little  face  every  morning  at  the  pump-room,  saw 
her  of  an  afternoon  in  the  park,  saw  her  everywhere,  but 
still  with  John  Alexander's  form,  John  Alexander's  petits 
soins  attending  her ;  and  fell  more  foolishly  in  love  with 
her  than  he  would  have  done  had  she  been  thrice  as  pret- 
ty but  with  no  John  Alexander  to  arouse  his,  Marmaduke 
Scott's,  vanity. 

"  Curse  the  fellow  for  a  conceited  cad  !  I  could  cut  him 
out  in  a  day,  in  an  hour,  if  I  would  ! "  This  was  the  in- 
sidious whisper  with  which  the  demon  of  self-love  first 
prompted  Mr.  Scott  on  to  his  fall ;  aided,  I  will  not  deny, 
by  many  upturned  timid  glances  of  encouragement  from 
the  young  lady  herself;  for  Milly  always  made  inquiries 
respecting  the  position  of  any  stray  men  who  appeared  I 
and,  even  with  poor  Smithett  coming  on  fast,  held  firm 
hold  upon  all  the  foregone  conclusions  of  her  little  mer- 
cenary creed. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  Mr.  Scott  to  put  his  first  vague 
aspiration  into  deeds.  Milly  saw  at  once  the  nature  of 
the  great  inert  mass  of  stupid  humanity  that  was  begin- 
ning to  dog  her  steps ;  the  exact  point  in  which  the 
strength  of  her  own  position  lay.  John  Alexander  must 
be  covertly  kept  on  in  closest  attendance ;  she  must  turn 
from  John  Alexander —  a  look  of  pain  for  him,  of  rapture 
for  another,  upon  her  face  —  whenever  Scott  approached  ; 
must  make  him  believe  himself  to  have  cruelly,  perfid- 
iously, but  irrevocably,  replaced  the  first  object  of  her 
girlish  fancy  in  that  young  heart.  And  all  this  she  did  ; 
and  into  the  very  pitfall  designed  for  him  did  Marmaduke 
Scott  plant  his  two  big  feet. 


316  THE  ORDEJ1L  FOR    WIVES. 

There  was  not  likely  to  be  much  delay  as  regarded  the 
Dashwood  family.  Jane  and  Millicent,  between  them, 
never  allowed  the  lover  to  feel  himself  for  a  moment 
bored  —  that  frightfully  dangerous  symptom  for  a  lover  to 
sustain  before  the  wedding  day;  Mrs.  Dashwood  showed 
herself  as  much  alive  as  the  most  carnal-minded  mother 
could  have  been  to  the  rapid  but  inexpensive  preparations 
attendant  upon  a  bridal  trousseau;  the  Colonel,  with 
equal  parental  diligence,  pushed  the  settlements  forward, 
and  took  care  to  have  them  as  ample  and  as  tightly  secur- 
ed upon  his  daughter  as  possible.  All  went  on  admira- 
bly, even  to  the  minor  details  of  poor  John  Alexander 
still  haunting  Milly's  steps  —  thus  fanning  up  the  blaze 
of  gratified  vanity  to  the  last ;  and,  almost  before  Mr. 
Scott's  cumbrous  machinery  for  thinking  had  enabled  him 
to  realize  what  he  was  about,  he  found  himself  handing 
Colonel  Dashwood's  youngest  daughter  into  a  travelling 
carriage,  with  lovely  bridesmaids  and  idiotic  groomsmen 
and  weeping  relations  and  faithful  servants,  looking  at 
him  in  one  confused  group  from  the  doorstep  of  Colonel 
Dashwood's  house. 

Now  I  am  far  from  saying  that  to  find  oneself  unexpect- 
edly the  owner  of  so  attractive  a  creature  as  Millicent 
Dashwood  is,  just  at  first,  a  depressing  circumstance  in  a 
man's  life.  Barring  that  one  glimmering  suspicion  that 
he  had  been  a  fool,  which  did  overcome  him  incidentally 
as  he  handed  his  bride  into  her  travelling  carriage,  Mr. 
Scott  was  very  well  content  with  his  new  wife,  and  found 
his  honeymoon  in  Paris,  and  Milly's  smiling  face  and 
insatiable  appreciation  of  new  dresses,  and  their  solitude 
a  deux  at  the  Opera,  and  their  little  dinners  at  the  Trois 
Freres,  very  much  indeed  to  his  taste.  But  at  the  end  of 
five  or  six  weeks  —  perhaps  it  took  about  this  time  for 
Mr.  Scott  fairly  to  grapple  with  an  idea  —  and  as  Milly's 
smile  settled  down  into  the  natural  moderate  ratio  of  do- 


THE   ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  317 

mestic  cheerfulness,  and  both  of  them  began  insensibly  to 
feel  relieved  when  the  solitude  &  deux  at  dinnner  or  the 
Opera  was  broken  by  another  person  then,  I  do  say,  it  oc- 
curred to  Mr.  Marmaduke  Scott's  mind  to  ask  himself 
why,  in  the  name  of  heaven,  he  had  tied  himself  to  his 
Millicent?  And  the  only  satisfactory  answer  he  could 
ever,  even  up  to  this  day,  find  to  the  question  was  com- 
prised in  these  five  words  :  "  I  have  been  an  ass." 

He  was  not  a  man  to  be  made  at  all  lastingly  miserable 
by  any  earthly  circumstance,  as  long  as  his  two  thousand 
a-year  and  his  appetite  remained,  to  him.  You  remem- 
ber the  description  of  Haldor?  "  Whatever  turned  up, 
Haldor  was  never  in  higher  nor  in  lower  spirits,  never 
slept  less  nor  more,  on  account  of  them,  nor  ate  nor  drank 
but  according  to  his  custom.  Haldor  was  not  a  man  of 
words  —  short  in  conversation  ;  told  his  opinion  bluntly, 
and  was  obtuse  and  hard." 

Not  unlike  him  was  Mr.  Scott.  "Full  of  coarse 
strength,  strong  exercise,  butcher's  meat,  and  sound  sleep," 
there  was  little  place  left  for  sentiment  in  his  composition  ; 
and  whatever  amount  of  affection  it  was  in  him  to  feel 
was  already  given  away  to  his  little  daughter,  the  only 
child  of  a  former  marriage.  He  was  not  made  at  all  mis- 

o 

erable  by  discovering  that  he  did  not  love  Milly,  nor  she 
him ;  but  he  often  repeated  to  himself  the  same  formula 
as  on  his  first  discovery  of  the  facts,  to  wit,  "  I  have 
been  an  ass ; "  and  he  also  very  resolutely  determined 
that,  having  been  an  ass  concerning  Milly  once,  he  would 
not  be  an  ass  concerning  her  for  the  future. 

Scott  had  all  the  persistent  clearness  incident  to  a 
thoroughly  shallow  mind.  When  he  once  believed  a 
thing,  his  belief  never  progressed  nor  developed  ;  but  it 
also  never  vacillated.  The  English  constitution ;  the 
English  church  service ;  madeira  with  lobster ;  claret 
with  salmon  ;  white  burgundy  with  venison  ;  these  were 


818  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

the  great  fundamental  beliefs  of  Mr.  Scott's  mind :  and  to 
these  was  added,  as  Milly  very  shortly  discovered,  anoth- 
er :  namely,  an  Englishman's  supremacy  over  his  own 
household. 

During  the  first  six  weeks  or  so  of  her  marriage,  Mrs. 
Scott  had  indulged  in  very  nice  little  dreams,  indeed,  re- 
specting her  own  future  life.  This  dear,  good,  heavy, 
old  Marmy  would  be  so  easily  managed !  Give  him  his 
dinner  and  his  wine  and  Marmy  wouldn't  care  about  her 
amusing  herself  in  her  own  innocent  way.  But  on  the 
very  first  occasion  when  she  strove  to  take  the  reins  — 
Scott  was  engaged  to  a  men's  dinner,  and  she  persistent- 
ly proposed  dining  with  her  dear  friend,  the  Baroness 

Z ,  and  going  to  the  Opera  without  him  —  such  a 

sample  of  Marmy's  docile  nature  was  called  forth  as  made 
her  sensible  that  the  one  great  item  freedom  had  not  been 
included  in  the  otherwise  successful  bargain  of  her  mar- 
riage. 

"  You've  not  been  well  brought  up,  Millicent,"  —  kind 
friends  had  managed  to  whisper  various  Dash  wood  anec- 
dotes to  Scott  since  his  marriage, —  "  and  you  and  your 
sister  have  gone  on  a  cursed  deal  too  fast  for  your  repu- 
tation already.  But  you're  my  wife  now,  and  by  G — ! 
if  you  want  to  go  to  operas  and  balls  by  yourself,  you 
may,  but  you  won't  live  with  me,  too." 

Mr.  Scott  made  this  kindly  speech  quite  in  his  accus- 
tomed tone,  and  with  his  great  white  face  as  unmoved  as 
ever ;  and  then  he  went  off,  quietly,  to  his  own  amuse- 
ment, and  Milly  cried  till  she  was  sick,  as  she  looked  at 
the  lovely  white  silk  and  pearls  in  which  she  had  meant 
to  appear,  and  thought  of  the  ruthless  monster  to  whom 
she  was  tied,  while  she  lived. 

If  Jane  had  been  Scott's  wife,  she  would  have  openly 
rebelled;  no  doubt  whatever  of  that;  have  rebelled  and 
been  defeated,  and  rebelled  and  conquered,  and  then  hare 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  319 

been  defeated  again,  and  then,  and  then  —  have  ended, 
probably,  as  so  many  a  generous,  impassioned,  faulty  na- 
ture does,  and  when  phlegmatic,  suspicious,  commonplace 
drives  it  to  despair.  But  Millicent  was  sure  to  make  the 
very  best,  in  a  worldly  sense,  of  every  position  in  which 
she  found  herself  placed.  Her  husband  was  tyrannical, 
jealous,  obstinate.  Very  well.  Through  his  tyranny,  his 
jealousy,  his  obstinacy,  must  she  manage  him  :  a  different 
life,  certainly,  to  the  easy  one  which  she  had  planned  in 
those  early  days  when  she  believed  Marmy  to  be  a  nega- 
tive not  a  positive  fool ;  but  an  enviable  fortunate  life 
still ;  with  position  ;  with  money  ; —  a  life  very  far  better 
to  that  which,  as  the  plainest  of  Colonel  Dash  wood's  pen- 
niless daughters,  she  had  ever  dared  to  hope  for. 

And  so,  the  first  blind  six  weeks  over,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Scott  understood  each  other ;  and  they  returned  to  Lon- 
don, and  took  a  pretty  little  house  as  near  the  abodes  of 
real  greatness  as  possible,  and  furnished  this  house,  and 
gathered  a  circle  of  acquaintances  around  them,  and  got 
on  well  together. 

The  fundamental  principle  of  "getting  on"  between 
married  persons  living  in  the  world  may  be  broadly  class- 
ified under  two  heads :  scientific,  covert  welfare;  profound 
indifference.  The  relations  between  the  Scotts  partook 
of  both  these  characters ;  and  the  result  was  a  more  than 
usual  amount  of  getting  on.  Their  friends  declared  it 
was  quite  a  pleasure  to  look  at  these  two  young  people, 
they  seemed  so  evidently  to  understand  each  other's 
characters,  and  to  live  in  such  thorough  harmony  and 
accord. 

What  did  the  world  know,  or  care,  that  Mr.  Marma- 
duke  Scott's  daily  thought  was,  "  I  don't  love  her,  I  was 
an  ass  to  marry  her,  and  I  distrust  her  to  the  very  core. 
But  she  has  got  my  honor  in  her  hands,  and  so  long  as 
we  live  together  I'll  watch  her,  and  keep  her  straight, 


320  THE  ORDEAL   FOR    WIVES. 

whether  she  wills  it  or  no,  by  my  watching."  The  wife  : 
"  Marmaduke  is  a  bore,  a  suspicious,  horrible,  stupid,  jealous 
wretch  ;  but  I  did  well  for  myself  in  marrying  him,  and  I 
mean  to  uphold  my  own  position  as  his  wife." 

The  world  saw  that  Mr.  Scott  attended  his  wife  sedulous- 
ly to  her  balls  and  operas ;  that  Mrs.  Scott  freely  accord- 
ed to  him  the  liberty  which  young  wives  occasionally 
have  the  folly  to  feel  jealous  about ;  and  the  world  pro- 
nounced them  a  happy  and  well-assorted  couple. 

As  you  may  imagine,  Millicent  was  not  a  person  to  be 
especially  cognizant  of  the  existence  of  her  own  family, 
now  that  she  had  fairly  outstripped  them  in  money  and 
social  position ;  and  letters  descriptive  of  Colonel  Dash- 
wood's  desire  to  look  up  old  London  friends,  and  of  Mrs. 
Dash  wood's  to  "  sit "  for  a  time  at  the  feet  of  the  momen- 
tary Gamaliel  of  spiritualism,  called  forth  no  other  answer 
from  the  lamb  newly-severed  from  the  flock  than  a  kindly 
offer  to  look  out  for  lodgings  for  Papa  and  Mamma  if 
they  should  come  to  town.  But  as  regarded  Jane  it  was 
different.  Millicent  could  not  love :  nature  not  having 
given  her  the  de  quoi  through  which  alone  that  painful 
and  ill-paying  process  can  be  conducted :  but  she  was 
human,  and  Jane  had  been  the  only  creature  who  had 
loved  her  since  she  was  born,  and  Jane  was  handsome 
and  would  attract  people  about  the  house,  and  Jane  would 
listen  and  take  counsel  with  her  respecting  the  furniture 
and  the  servants  and  the  dresses  and  the  dinner  parties 
which  were  already  the  real  hearty  interests  of  Millicent's 
life.  Jane  would  be  useful :  Jane's  companionship  would 
be  grateful  to  her :  and  so,  after  a  good  deal  of  contention 
with  dear  Marmy,  and  when  circumstances,  per  force, 
made  him  abstain  from  contradicting  his  wife,  Miss  Dash- 
wood  was  invited  to  come  and  take  up  her  abode  with 
the  newly-married  pair. 

She  came  ;  and,  as  I  have  told  you,  she  conquered.     At 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          321 

the  time  when  Esther  resolved  to  follow  Joan's  advice 
and  come  to  London,  Jane  Dashwood  had  been  for  more 
than  two  months  the  promised  wife  of  Lord  Feltham. 

"  Don't  expect  romance,  please,"  she  wrote  to  Esther, 
when  arrangements  had  finally  been  made  for  the  latter 
coming  to  London.  "  Don't  expect  romance,  and  don't 
think  I  am  a  bit  changed  from  what  I  was.  I  met 
Arthur  Peel  last  night  (my  fiance  has  rejoined  his  regi- 
ment at  Corfu,  you  know)  and  talked  to  him  —  well,  for 
half  the  evening.  Esther,  you  may  remember  it  is  a 
little  peculiarity  incidental  to  Arthur  Peel  and  myself  to 
do  so  whenever  we  meet,  and  he  assured  me  that  Miss 
Lynes  will  have  fifty  thousand  pounds  upon  her  marriage 
day,  and  I  told  him  that  Lord  Feltham  has  at  least  three 
thousand  a  year,  besides  his  landed  property.  Don't  the 
wicked  flourish  ?  and  won't  I  be  glad  to  have  you  to 
come  and  stay  with  me  when  I  am  married  ? 

"  Oh  Esther,  Esther !  I  look  out  from  my  window 
upon  this  London  street,  and  I  see  occasionally  a  dark 
unhappy  figure  stealing  wearily  though  the  rain  and  fog, 
and  I  don't  know  in  my  heart  by  how  much,  if  by  any,  I 
am  better  than  one  of  these ;  and  at  this  moment  I  al- 
most wish,  yes,  I  would  to  God  I  had  the  courage,  as 
other  wretches  have,  to  walk  away  through  the  dark  down 
to  the  river  and  throw  myself  in  there  and  be  at  rest ! 

"  Don't  write  me  any  answer.  Spare,  congratulations 
till  we  meet." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

AN    ENFANT    TERRIBLE. 

I  HAVE  mentioned  that  Mr.  Marmaduke  Scott  had  been 
already  married  and  was  the  possessor  of  one  little  daugh- 
14* 


322  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

ter.  This  child  was  between  four  and  five  years  of  age 
at  the  time  of  his  second  marriage;  and,  before  she  and 
her  step-mother  had  lived  under  the  same  roof  for  a  fort- 
night, Millicent  was  sensible  how  sharp  a  thorn  in  the 
flesh  a  step-child  —  a  step-child  of  only  four  years  old, 
was  likely  to  prove. 

Dogged  in  most  things,  there  was  one  point  respecting 
which  Mr.  Marmaduke  Scott  showed  positively  abnormal 
doggedness  ;  namely,  in  his  determination  that  his  daugh- 
ter should  never  be  brought  up  anywhere  save  in  his  own 
house.  He  had  neglected  the  child  pretty  consistently 
ever  since  her  mother's  death  ;  leaving  her  with  servants 
of  all  nations,  and  of  whom  he  knew  nothing,  often  for 
weeks,  sometimes  for  months,  together,  when  he  was  ab- 
sent on  his  continental  rambles.  But  to  his  one  pre-gone 
conclusion  he  had  always  remained  firm  :  she  should  be 
brought  up  with  him. 

Natty,  poor  little  wretch,  might,  with  great  advantage 
to  herself;  have  been  left  with  some  of  her  father's  rela- 
tions in  England,  or  her  mother's  in  France,  or  at  any 
decent  school  in  either  ;  but  Mr.  Scott  was  not  to  be  ar- 
gued with  in  the  matter.  The  child  should  not  be  put 
away  from  him.  He  had  no  belief  in  relations  ;  he  held 
girls'  schools  to  be  immoral.  Natty  should  travel  with 
him  :  and  travel  with  him  Natty  did ;  deriving,  as  afore- 
said, her  rudimentary  ideas  of  right  and  wrong  and  the 
world  in  general  from  whatever  French  bonne,  Swiss 
governess,  or  cosmopolitan  courier  it  might  please  Prov- 
idence to  place  her  under. 

"  She  is  a  little  monster,"  said  her  stepmother,  in  a  mo- 
ment of  free  expansion,  to  Jane  Dashwood,  when  she  was 
first  summing  up  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of 
having  married  Marmy  to  her  sister ;  "  a  precocious,  pry- 
ing, pert,  little,  hardened  monster;  but  she  must  be 
taught,  if  only  to  keep  her  so  many  hours  a  day  out  of 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  323 

my  way,  and  a  nursery  governess  won't  cost  more  than  a 
nurse  —  especially  if  I  make  it  a  part  of  the  bargain  that 
she  shall  do  my  plain  sewing  as  well  as  the  child's.  The 
bore  will  be  having  such  a  creature  at  all.  A  young 
woman,  perhaps,  who  will  imagine  herself  a  lady,  and 
upset  the  servants  by  making  them  wait  on  her.  Oh,  if 
the  little  scheme  of  education  was  to  be  carried  out  by 
me  alone,  shouldn't  dear  Miss  Natty  be  at  a  good  strict 
school  before  next  Monday  morning." 

However,  the  scheme  of  education  had  not  to  be  car- 
ried out  by  Mrs.  Scott  at  all,  and  Natty  growing  day  by 
day  more  unmanageable  to  the  household  at  large,  and 
oppressive  to  her  stepmother  in  particular,  a  nursery 
governess  had  grown  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  crying  and 
urgent  necessity,  when  Esther  Fleming's  announcement 
of  her  wish  to  meet  with  such  an  engagement  arrived. 
Milly,  falling  back  upon  one  of  the  pious  phrases  of  her 
childhood,  clasped  her  little  plump  hands  together,  and 
called  it  a  special  and  obvious  answer  to  her  prayers  on 
Natty's  behalf;  Natty,  herself,  expressed  a  vigorous  in- 
tention to  hate,  oppress,  and  generally  rebel  against  Miss 
Fleming  from  the  first  moment  of  her  arrival ;  Mr.  Scott 
inquired  if  the  woman  was  a  fright  that  Millicent  was  so 
doosed  anxious  to  get  hold  of  her  ?  Jane  Dash  wood  at 
once  wrote  off  a  kind  letter,  the  concluding  words  of 
which  I  have  shown  you,  requesting  Esther  to  undertake 
the  training  of  Natty's  early  years.  And  Esther  under- 
took it.  She  felt  as  though  it  mattered  little  to  her  into 
whose  service  or  into  what  service  she  entered.  To  be 
the  companion,  as  in  her  early  governess  dreams  she  had 
hoped,  of  a  refined  and  educated  woman,  who  would 
work  with  her,  and  through  her,  for  one  common  good, 
her  children  ;  or  the  hired  dependent,  half  servant  half 
confidant,  of  one  so  essentially  little  minded  as  Millicent. 
All  she  wanted  was  work;  work  to  which  she  must  hour- 


324  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

ly  attend ;  into  which,  however  distasteful,  she  would 
conscientiously  strive  to  throw  all  her  strength.  Work, 
and  to  be  in  the  great  city  that  held  Paul ! 

So  she  made  no  demur  at  any  of  the  small  mean  condi- 
tions which  Millicent  forced  Jane  to  set  forth  in  her  offer. 
She  was  obdurate  when  Miss  Joan  would  have  made  her 
rebel  against  repairing  two  wardrobes,  and  sitting  up  after 
parties  (to  save  poor  Watson,)  and  coming  to  sing  when 
required  in  the  drawing-room,  and,  ordinarily,  taking  all 
her  meals  with  Natty,  "  who  is  never  to  be  a  moment*  out 
of  dear  Esther's  sight,"  all  for  the  modest  income  of  twenty- 
five  pounds  a-year. 

To  feel  small  slights  or  injustices  from  indifferent  peo- 
ple the  heart  must  be  unoccupied,  the  nerves  acutely 
sensitive  —  hence  the  cause,  perhaps,  why  governesses,  as 
a  body,  are  so  morbidly  alive  to  the  necessary  evils  of  their 
position.  To  Esther,  full  of  life  and  the  passion  of  life, 
her  heart  charged  to  overflowing  with  one  only  too  absorb- 
ing interest,  her  nerves  as  little  irritable  as  youth  and  health 
could  make  them,  it  was  simply  a  matter  of  indifference 
what  were  Mrs.  Scott's  demands,  or  how  much  or  how 
little  of  the  society  of  her  patrons  she  would  have.  She 
would  rather  have  undertaken  those  menial  duties  and 
have  received  that  pitiful  twenty-five  pounds  a-year,  than 
have  entered  the  best  house,  have  received  the  highest 
wages  in  London.  And  why  ?  The  Scotts  knew  Paul. 
Through  Jane  Dash  wood's  agency  she  would  be  certain 
to  meet  him,  feel  the  clasp  of  his  hand,  look  into  his  face 
once  more. 

Does  any  human  being  deserve  pity  who  possesses 
youth  and  the  capacity  for  loving  and  being  miserable. 

I  think  not.  I  think  we  waste  our  sympathy  grievous- 
ly upon  all  heroes  and  heroines  of  romance.  When  men 
and  women  need  pity  is  —  when  they  have  ceased  to  be 
able  either  to  love  or  to  suffer ! 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

DOUBLY  FALSE. 

MRS.  SCOTT  and  Miss  Dashwood  had  gone  out  to  a 
dinner-party,  and  would  not  be  at  home  till  eleven,  was 
the  welcome  that  awaited  Esther  in  her  new  home.  Would 
Miss  Fleming  have  the  goodness  to  go  upstairs  at  once, 
and  have  her  tea  in  Miss  Natty's  nursery  ? 

Miss  Hatty's  nursery  —  so  Mr.  Scott  willed  it  —  was 
the  best  room  in  the  house ;  and  on  entering  it  Esther 
at  once  saw,  in  the  minute  appointments,  the  pictured 
walls,  the  costly  carpeted  floor,  that  some  one  had  Miss 
Natty's  personal  comforts  at  heart.  Was  it  her  step- 
mother ?  .  As  she  looked  round  for  the  little  baby  face 
she  had  prepared  herself  to  see,  a  small  woman  —  a  wo- 
man, judging  from  her  height,  of  about  four  years  old, 
but  with  cool,  worldly  manners,  and  a  firm,  unembarrass- 
ed step  —  approached  from  a  low  chair  by  the  fireside, 
and  extended  to  her  its  minute  hand. 

"  Mrs.  Scott  and  Miss  Dashwood  are  out.  Come  near 
the  fire  ;  you  must  be  frozen  after  your  long  journey." 

And  then  two  sharp  black  eyes  commenced  a  deliberate 
inventory  of  every  detail  of  Miss  Fleming's  dress,  of 
every  line  of  her  face ;  an  inventory  such  as  only  one  of 
these  terrible  children  can  take ;  and  which,  while  the 
victim  is  ashamed  visibly  to  writhe  under  it,  he  feels  to 
be  more  remorselessly  correct  than  any  which  a  grown 
man  or  woman,  with  ever  so  much  knowledge  of  the 
world,  would  have  the  capacity  to  take. 

"I  hope  you  will  love  me,  Natty,  dear.  I  am  quite 
prepared  to  love  you." 

Miss  Scott  gave  a  short  laugh  ;  a  laugh  not  in  the  slight- 


326  THE  ORDEJ1L  FOR    WIVES. 

eat  degree  ill-bred,  but  such  a  one  as  you  might  imagine 
some  very  used-up  cynic  bestowing  upon  a  ludicrously- 
gushing,  although  possibly  good-hearted,  country  gentle- 
man who  should  proffer  the  tender  to  him  of  eternal 
friendship. 

"  1  like  all  the  world,  Mademoiselle  Fleming.  We  shall 
be  the  best  of  friends,  I  am  sure."  And  Natty  looked 
between  Esther's  brows,  and  reading  there  more  than  she 
liked  of  determination,  vowed  to  herself  to  kick  her  upon 
the  earliest  occasion  when  they  should  enter  together  up- 
on the  delicate  intricacies  of  words  in  three  letters.  "  My 
dear  mamma  —  ah,  there  are  more  than  two  years  she  is 
dead  —  taught  me  to  love  all  the  world.  I  don't  remem- 
ber her,  mademoiselle  ;  but  I  have  seen  —  seen  ou  elle 
dort,  in  Pere  la  Chaise,  and  a  little  white  boy,  with  only  a 
chemise  on,  holding  his  hands  so !  above  his  head.  The 
day  before  we  left,  you  know,  papa  and  I,  he  took  me 
there,  and  it  was  very  damp,  and  papa  wouldn'  step  on 
the  grass,  and  he  walked  up  and  down  and  he  smoked, 
oh,  a  very  long  time  —  five  minutes,  tout  au  moins  —  on 
the  gravel  walk  before  mamma;  and  then  I  cried,  and  he 
took  me  to  the  bonbon  shop,  and  gave  me  a  boxful  —  a 
pink  box,  with  a  real  little  looking-glass  inside  the  lid,  and 
such  good  bonbons  avec  de  la  creine,  mademoiselle  —  how 
do  you  say  it  ?  creme  inside  the  chocolats,  and  that  love- 
ly stuff  that  brings  tears  to  your  eyes,  du  rhum,  n'est  ce 
pas  ?  —  in  the  little  rose  and  white  dragees.  Mademoiselle, 
have  you  been  in  Paris  ?  I  have  been  there  four,  five 
times,  and  in  Vienna,  too.  Our  courier  in  Vienna  was  — 
was  allerliebst !  Ah,  bon  Dieu,  if  I  had  only  got  poor  Carl 
here !  " 

And  then  the  good  temper  vanished  abruptly  out  of 
Natty's  face,  and  she  turned  away  with  the  air  of  one  who 
evidently  held  life  to  be  a  very  poor,  mistaken,  used-up 
affair,  indeed,  to  the  fire. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  327 

Jane  Dash  wood's  letter  had  not  prepared  Esther  to  find 
an  angel  in  Marrnaduke  Scott's  child ;  but  for  anything 
so  old,  so  knowing,  so  upsetting  of  all  her  early  legends 
respecting  childish  innocence  as  this  fraction  of  a  human 
being,  she  was  unprepared. 

"  I  haven't  been  in  Paris,  Natty,"  she  remarked,  when, 
later,  they  were  sitting  together  at  tea ;  the  child  quaint- 
ly doing  the  honors  to  the  best  of  her  small  powers ;  "  I 
haven't  been  in  Paris  ;  but  I  have  lived  in  a  place  that 
I'm  sure  you'd  like  a  great  deal  better  —  a  farm-house  in 
the  country,  with  a  garden,  and  under  one  of  the  trees  in 
the  garden  a  swing.  What  should  you  say  to  that?" 

"  I  have  swung  in  the  Jardin  Mabille,  and  it  made  me 
ill  at  my  heart.  It  was  Easter  Sunday,  and  Carl  took  me 
there ;  and  while  he  went  to  dance  with  Mademoiselle 
Zizine,  a  man  took  me  up  and  called  me  his  angel,  and 
treated  me  to  a  swing  —  out  of  goodness,  understand  — 
and  it  made  me  ill,  like  the  steamer.  I've  been  to  a  farm- 
house, too.  I've  seen  as  much  as  you.  A  farmhouse  at 
Hampstead,  and  Polly  and  I  and  a  gentleman  had  straw- 
berries and  cream  there.  Va  done  mademoiselle  !  where 
else  have  you  been  ?  " 

"To  school,  Natty;  a  place  I'm  sure  you  have  not  been 
to.  I  was  at  school  with  your  mamma." 

"  You  mean  Milly.  She's  not  my  mamma.  Watson 
Bays  so.  My  mamma's  in  Pere  la  Chaise;  ,and  it's  a  good 
thing  for  her ;  a  very  good  thing!"  Natty  nodded  her 
head  significantly. 

"  Child,  who  teaches  you  to  say  such  things  ?  "  Esther 
asked.  "  Why  is  it  a  good  thing  that  your  mamma  is 
dead?" 

"  She  wouldn't  be  happy  if  she  was  alive.  People  ain't 
happy  when  they  fight ;  and  Watson  told  cook  papa  quar- 
relled with  my  real  mamma  just  as  bad  as  he  does  with  this 
one.  Every  time  they  cotne  from  a  party  they  quarrel  —  oh, 


328  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

they  quarrel  so  that  I  heard  them  one  night  from  my 
room  ;  and  Milly  doesn't  speak  the  truth  to  papa,  Miss 
Fleming.  One  day  she  said  Mr.  Mortimer  hadn't  been 
here,  and  he  had  been  here  all  the  afternoon,  and  I  told 
papa  so  —  I  did!"  and  about  five  small  demons  flashed 
out  of  Natty's  eyes ;  "  Milly  didn't  dare  punish  me  then, 
because  of  papa ;  but  next  day  she  came  in  the  nursery 
and  made  Polly  dress  me  in  my  old  green  frock,  when 
Dick  Lawson  was  coming  to  tea.  I  hate  her  for  it,  that1 
I  do ;  and  when  I'd  a  new  white  one,  with  a  dear  little 
blue  ruche  all  round  the  skirt !  and  whenever  Mr.  Morti- 
mer comes  I'll  tell  papa  again,  that  I  will ! " 

To  turn  the  child  from  herself,  her  own  loves,  her  own 
hates,  her  own  dresses,  would  have  been  simply  as  impos- 
sible as  to  have  turned  Milly  Dash  wood,  in  days  gone  by, 
from  her  loves,  and  hates,  and  dresses.  For  frivolity, 
for  worldliness,  for  selfishness,  Natty  might  have  done 
perfect  credit  to  Millicent  as  her  own  daughter ;  and, 
even  while  she  launched  forth  her  tiny  shafts  most 
bitterly  against  her  step-mother,  Esther  could  scarce  for- 
bear from  smiling  at  the  child's  instinctive  appreciation  of 
all  the  leading  and  congenial  points  in  Mrs  Scott's  char- 
acter. Natty  was  obviously  not  to  be  pitied,  according 
to  the  old  sentimental  way  of  pitying  step-children.  It 
would,  all  her  life,  be  a  good  stand-up  fight  between  her 
and  whomsoever  should  be  put  in  authority  over  her  just 
as  it  was  virtually  a  stand-up  fight  now  between  Millicent 
and  her  husband. 

"  And  well  for  her  so !  "  thought  Esther,  when  she  went, 
later,  to  look  at  the  child  asleep,  and  marked  the  resolute 
expression  of  the  poor  little  round  infantine  features. 
"  Well  for  her,  well  for  this  little  child,  well  for  all  women 
who  have  got  it  born  in  them  not  to  suffer  for  any  one 
not  to  love  any  one  but  themselves." 

And  then  she  betook  herself  to  the  window  and  leant 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         329 

her  face  against  the  pane,  and  tried  to  choke  back  he^ 
tears  as  she  wondered  how  many  miles  Paul  was  from  hei 
at  that  moment  ?  and  with  whom  he  was  ?  and  whether 
he  had  bought  the  bouquet  of  white  flowers  that  day  ?  with 
all  the  other  questions  which  that  delicious  passion,  under 
whose  dominion  she  was,  is  in  the  habit  of  alternately  fev- 
ering and  chilling  the  hearts  of  its  unhappy  victims. 

Between  eleven  and  twelve  o'clock  the  Scotts  and  Jane 
returned.  As  Mrs.  Scott  was  very  fatigued,  however ; 
had  fainted,  or  intended,  to  faint,  or  something  of  that 
kind  ;  and  Mr.  Scott  was  in  the  sulky  condition  normal  to 
him  after  all  parties,  Esther  Fleming,  much  to  her  own 
lelief,  was  informed  that  she  would  not  be  required  to 
come  down  to  the  drawing-room  that  evening. 

"Don't  think  it  unkind,"  cried  Jane,  who  had  rushed 
up  at  once,  in  her  warm  impulsive  way,  and  borne  Es- 
ther off  to  her  own  room.  "  Milly  really  isn't  strong  — 
indeed',  it  would  be  much  better  for  her  if  she  didn't  go 
to  parties  at  all  —  and  Mr.  Scott  is  so  fearfully  cross,  I 
don't  wonder  at  her  not  wishing  you  to  get  your  first  im- 
pression of  him  to-night.  Esther,  whatever  else  Lord 
Feltham  may  turn  out,  I  hope  he  won't  be  sulky.  I 
could  stand  any  other  form  of  temper,  but  even  from  a 
man  I  didn't  love  I  could  not  stand  sulkiness.  If  Feltham 
takes  it  into  his  head  to  sulk  like  dear  Manny  I  shall  run 
away  from  him  in  three  months." 

"But  is  it  real,  Jane?"  and  Esther  looked  earnestly 
into  her  face.  "  Is  it  all  in  real  sober  earnest  ?  You  are 
going  to  marry  him  ?  " 

"Real!  I  should  rather  think  so!  "  but  her  lauejh  was 

O 

hollow.  "  Wait  till  you  see  his  letters,  his  trinkets.  So- 
ber earnest  ?  Oh,  Esther,  if  you  knew  all  I  have  had  to 
go  through  —  all  that  I  go  through  still !  " 

She  seized  Esther's  hand  between  her  own  two  feverish 
ones,  and  kissed  her  in  that  passionate  way  which,  com- 


330  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

ing  from  one  woman  to  another,  tells  so  indisputably  that 
some  strong  emotion  concerning  a  man  must  be'  the  latent 
motive-power.  "  I  am  glad  you  have  come.  I  want  you. 
I  want  some  one  that  I  need  tell  no  lies  to :  some  one 
that  I  can  really  talk  to  for  the  short  time  that  will  be 
mine  about  —  about  Arthur.  Esther,  I  have  seen  him 
to-night.  He  knew  I  was  to  be  at  the  Dalzells,  and  he 
actually  w^alked  round  from  his  club,  and  met  me  at  the 
door,  as  I  was  going  to  the  carriage,  this  cold  winter 
night !  He  doesn't  come  to  the  house,  you  know  —  Mr. 
Scott  won't  have  it,  horrible  bear  !  now  that  I  am  engaged 
—  but  he  meets  me  everywhere ;  when  we  walk,  when 
we  go  out  to  parties,  to  the  theatre.  Do  you  think  that 
looks  as  if  he  was  going  to  marry  Miss  Lynes?  Speak 
what  you  think,  please,  quite  plainly.  I'm  accustomed  to 
all  disappointments." 

"  I  didn't  know  that  Arthur  Peel  was  even  said  to  be 
engaged  to  Miss  Lynes,  Jane ;  but  I  think  the  fact  of 
your  being  engaged  should  be  enough  to  make  him  leave 
off  paying  you  attention ;  and  I  think  Mr.  Scott  acts  hon- 
orably to  Lord  Feltham  in  not  allowing  him  to  come  to 
the  house." 

"  Honorably ! "  cried  Jane,  with  a  little  hard  laugh. 
"  What  a  word  to  apply  to  the  thought  or  actions  of  any 
man,  in  as  far  as  women  are  concerned  !  Vanity,  selfish- 
ness, falseness  —  those  are  the  qualities  I  recognize,  only 
in  different  degrees,  in  all  men.  Mr.  Scott  is  intensely 
selfish,  and  thinks  it  for  his  advantage,  socially,  that  his 
sister-in-law  should  remain  true  to  an  eligible  suitor. 
Lord  Feltham  is  intensely  vain,  and  vanity  made  him 
wish  to  be  the  owner  of  my  well-looking  face,  and  to  cut 
Arthur  out.  For  Arthur  himself " 

She  sank  her  head  down,  weariedly,  against  the  man- 
tlepiece ;  and  then,  looking  again  at  the  lines  of  that 
lovely  face  in  repose,  Esther  knew  that  it  had  changed 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  331 

from  what  it  used  to  be.  Miss  Dashwood  bad  not  grown 
tbin  to  tbe  point  wbich  takes  from  beauty.  The  round, 
fair  cheek,  the  exquisitely-modelled  chin  and  throat  were 
there,  in  all  the  perfect  softness  that  must  belong  to  a 
blonde  Englishwoman  of  less  than  two-and-twenty ;  and 
yet,  despite  all  the  brilliant  bloom  and  rounded  lines,  the 
face  had  oldened  visibly  during  the  last  twelve  months. 
Of  passion  as  strong  as  her  nature  could  feel,  Jane  had 
had  ample  experience  ever  since  she  was  seventeen  ;  but, 
whatever  some  moralists  may  say,  it  is  not  passion,  it  is 
the  renouncement  of  passion,  which  really  hardens  the 
heart  and  lines  the  face.  Since  her  engagement,  Jane 
Dashwood  had  striven  to  efface  Arthur  Peel  from  her 
heart;  had  striven,  in  her  way,  to  be  true  to  the  man  she 
meant  to  marry  ;  and  these  two  or  three  months  of  her 
engagement  had  made  her  older  and  more  miserable  than 
so  many  years  of  the  former  life,  with  all  its  excess  of 
hopeless  but  unstruggling  passion  would  have  done. 

"Jane,  I  think  you  have  done  very  wrong  in  accepting 
Lord  Feltham." 

"  Esther,  I  have  done  very  right  in  accepting  Lord  Fel- 
tham. Such  a  life  as  mine  has  been  for  the  last  three 
years  can't  go  on  forever.  Very  few  women  marry  the 
man  they  are  insane  enough  to  love  first,  and  the  few 
who  do  are  not  over-happy  in  their  lives,  I  hear.  I  shall 
never  marry  Arthur  Peel  —  never,  never,' never  !"  She 
raised  up  her  face,  and  looked  —  oh,  with  what  a  look ! 
—  into  Esther's  eyes.  "  It  was  a  dream,  and  he  was  nev- 
er worthy  of  me,  and  if  I  had  married  him  both  of  us 
would  have  been  miserable  in  six  months.  I  know  all 
that,  and  I  know,  too,  that  love  —  even  the  very  maddest 
love  —  can't  drasr  on  through  a  divided  existence  forever. 

O  3 

One  can  live  down  everything,  and  the  best  way  to  live 
love  down  is  by  marrying.  I  am  fortunate  in  being  en- 
gaged to  Feltham,  because  he  has  money  —  money  and 


332  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

position,  of  both  of  which,  as  I  grow  older,  I  shall  be 
fond  ;  and,  besides,  if  I  had  not  married  him  I  should  cer- 
tainly have  married  some  one  else.  Lui  ou  un  autre!  — 
it  matters  little.  I  shall  be  a  good  average  wife ;  the 
better  for  knowing  so  well  beforehand  what  life  and  all 
its  temptations  are ;  and  you  are  very  mistaken,  Esther, 
i  i  thinking  that  I  have  acted  wrongly.  Wait  till  you  see 
me  as  Lord  Feltham's  wife,  and  then  tell  me  whether  he 
and  I  are  not  both  to  be  envied." 

"  And  the  conclusion  of  your  letter  to  me,  Jane,  where 
you  spoke  of  some  poor  wretch  making  her  way  through 
the  night  to  the  river,  and  said  for  very  little  you  would 
change  your  fate  with  hers  ?  " 

Miss  Dashwood  laughed  the  question  off;  began  to  talk 
of  Millicent's  marriage,  of  Mr.  Scott,  of  the  child,  of  her 
own  parties  and  successes  —  finally  of  Paul. 

"  You  are  as  fatally  far  gone  upon  him  as  ever,  Esther, 
I  presume  ?  If  you  are,  I  can  look  him  up  for  you  at  once. 
You  know,  of  course,  that  he  and  Lord  Feltham  are  half- 
brothers  ?  " 

"  Paul  Chichester  and  Lord  Feltham  ?  Great  heavens, 
Jane  !  are  you  in  earnest  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  don't  mean  to  say  you  did  nob  know  it  be- 
fore? I  took  it  for  granted  you  did  when  I  first  wrote  to 
announce  my  engagement.  They  are  brothers,  but  have 
not  met  for  years  and  years.  One  day,  when  I  was  talk- 
ing to  Lord  Feltham,  I  mentioned  Paul's  name  accidental- 
ly, and  then  out  it  all  came.  Amusing  to  have  been  en- 
gaged to  them  both,  one  in  joke,  the  other  in  earnest, 
eh'?  " 

All  the  story,  the  dark  hints  respecting  Paul  that  Mrs. 
Tudor  had  given  her  at  Weymouth,  came  back,  sudden 
and  clear,  upon  Esther's  mind,  and  her  heart  died  within 
her  at  this  threatened  confirmation  of  their  truth. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  the   estrangement  was  all  Paul's 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  333 

fault?"  she  stammered.     "Did  Lord  Feltham  give  you 
no  details  of  the  family  quarrels  ?  " 

"Well,  Esther,  dear,  to  tell  you  the  honest  truth,  I 
wasn't  interested  enough  in  anything  belonging  to  them 
to  ask  many  questions,  even  if  I  had  thought  it  discreet 
to  do  so,  which  I  did  not.  When  young  men  break  with 
their  relations  in  that  determined  sort  of  manner,  'tis  not 
difficult  to  guess  what  kind  of  reason  lies  at  the  bottom 
of  it  all ;  indeed,  Lord  Feltham  more  than  hinted  that 
Paul  had  been  entangled  —  hopelessly  entangled  —  ever 
since,  and  was  so  now.  I  didn't  like  Paul  a  bit  the  less 
for  it,  mind,  nor  his  brother  the  better  for  his  look  of  con- 
scious superiority  as  he  told  me ;  but  it  was  in  quite  the 
early  days  of  our  engagement,  when  everything,  of  course, 
must  be  rose-colored  and  charming,  and  as  I  saw  the  sub- 
ject was  not  an  agreeable  one,  I  just  said  that  I  had  known 
Mr.  Chichester  slightly,  and  let  it  drop." 

"And  Paul  — Mr.  Chichester  —  did  he  and  Lord  Felt- 
ham  ever  meet  in  this  house  ?  " 

"  N~o.  I  happened  to  see  Paul  a  night  or  two  afterwards 
at  the  Opera  —  the  only  public  place  at  which  one  ever 
meets  him  —  and  then  I  told  him  —  Lord  Feltham  hap- 
pily was  not  with  me  —  of  my  engagement.  From  that 
day  till  this  he  has  never  been  near  the  house,  but  now, 
with  his  brother  away  (I  told  you,  did  I  not,  that  Lord 
Feltham  had  gone  to  Corfu?  He  does  not  sell  out  till 
the  spring,  and  by  my  express  wish  rejoined  his  regiment 
in  the  interval)  and  with  you  here,  no  doubt  we  shall  be- 
gin to  see  Paul's  face  again  ;  that  is,  if  dear  Manny  should 
happen  to  approve  of  his  visits.  You  have  no  idea  what 
a  jealous  monster  that  is,  Esther.  Poor  Milly  has  only  got 
to  speak  to  any  man  twice,  and  Mr.  Scott  insults  him,  if 
he  comes  to  the  house.  What  should  you  do  if  you  were 
married  to  such  a  wretch  ?  I  should  simply  run  away, 
co'te  que  cofite.  Life  is  too  short  to  be  spent  in  fighting 
any  man." 


334  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Life  is  too  short  to  be  spent  in  loving  any  man ! " 
cried  Miss  Fleming,  bitterly.  "  Jane,  are  all  men  unprin- 
cipled, I  wonder,  and  all  women  fools  ?  " 

"  Most  undoubtedly  they  are,  in  their  relations  to  each 
other,",  said  Miss  Dashwood,  with  cool  emphasis,  "and 
every  year  that  you  live  you  will  come  to  know  it  with 
greater  certainty.  All  men  are  unworthy  —  wholly  un- 
worthy—  of  anything  like  true  or  honest  love  ;  all  women 
are  fools  enough,  once  or  twice  in  their  lives,  to  be  really  t 
in  love,  except,  perhaps  women  of  the  Mrs.  Strangways' 
stamp  ;  and  what  they  must  go  through  in  wounded  van- 
ity I  dare  say  quite  equals  the  torment  of  other  people's 
foolish  attachments.  The  happy  state.,  I  am  convinced  of 
it,  Esther,  is  to  be  not  one  atom  in  love  with  the  man  you 
marry;  tor  him  to  be  fond  —  not  ridiculously  or  jealously 
fond  —  of  you,  and  also  to  possess  a  great  taste  and  great 
capacity  for  constantly  making  you  all  sorts  of  nice  ex- 
pensive presents.  This  is  my  state  now,  and  if  I  could 
only  get  over  my  old  folly  thoroughly,  I  should  be  really 
happy.  Grandes  passions  were  never  really  intended  for 
silly  little  women  like  Milly  and  me.  They  require  height, 
as  these  new  wreaths  do,  to  carry  them  off.  By-the-way, 
what  do  you  think  of  this  tiara  I  have  on  ?  It  is  an  aw- 
fully grand  one,  you  must  know,  made  out  of  some  of  the 
Feltham  diamonds.  Do  you  think  a  tiara  coming  so  much 
to  the  front  of  the  head  becomes  me  or  not  ?" 

Now  Esther  was  not  one  whit  disposed  to  talk  of 
wreaths  or  tiaras,  or  any  other  kind  of  head-dress.  Her 
heart  was  bitter  within  her :  bitter  against  Paul  for  the 
fresh  confirmation  of  the  guilty  secret,  whatever  it  was, 
that  bound  him  to  his  strange  and  suspected  life ;  bitter 
against  him  because  he  had,  after  all,  been  going  to  the 
Opera,  living,  enjoying  himself  as  usual,  while  she  had 
been  wasting  her  heart  in  foolish  dreams  at  Countisbury  ; 
bitter  against  him  because  —  because  she  loved  him.  Can 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         335 

I  assign  to  her  any  better  reason  ?  But  when  do  women, 
the  simplest,  the  worst-trained  among  them,  betray  to 
each  other  this  particular  phase  of  suffering — the  first, 
the  keenest,  perhaps,  of  all :  suspicion  without  the  right 
to  be  suspicious ;  jealousy  without  the  right  to  be  jeal- 
ous ?  She  thought  dear  Jane  looked  very  well  indeed 
with  a  tiara  coming  so  much  to  the  front  of  the  head ; 
and  what  beautiful  brilliants  they  were !  and  how  well 
they  contrasted  with  the  sweet  simplicity  of  that  little 
gold  bracelet  upon  Jane's  arm  ! 

"  The  first  present  poor  Arthur  ever  gave  me  !  "  cried 
Miss  Dashwood.  "  See,  here's  the  date  inside,  and  when 
you  touch  that  spring,  a  little  piece  of  his  hair  and  of 
mine.  Do  you  think  it  will  be  right  for  me  to  keep  it 
when  I  am  married  ?  Right  or  wrong,  I  shall  do  so. 
There  are  some  few  things  it  would  just  kill  me  to  part 
from,  and  this  is  one  of  them." 

She  put  the  bracelet  between  Esther's  hands,  then 
walked  up  to  the  toilet-table,  took  off  her  tiara,  her  neck- 
lace, her  rings,  and  pushed  them  all  aside  with  a  quick 
impatient  gesture  into  a  heap. 

"  I  hope  you'll  never  know  the  sensation  of  having  sold 
yourself,  Esther.  It's  not  an  elevating  one.  When  I  am 
dressed  in  Lord  Feltham's  jewels,  and  meet  Arthur,  as  I 
did  to-night,  I  ask  myself  how  much  better  I  am  than  any 
of  the  women  of  another  class  whom  we  have  been 
taught  to  regard  as  lost  in  this  world  and  the  next  ?  My 
sale  is  for  life,  certainly ;  but  I  don't  see  that  the  length 
of  the  term  can  make  any  moral  difference.  The  sale  — 
the  motives  of  the  sale  —  remain  the  same." 

"  jN"o,  no,  Jane;  that  is  your  passionate,  one-sided  way 
of  viewing  your  own  conduct.  You  intend,  once  married 
to  Lord  Feltham,  to  be  true  and  faithful  to  him,  and  to 
banish  Arthur  Peel  from  your  heart.  If  you  did  not 
really  at  heart  mean  to  be  true,  to  the  best  of  your  ability, 


336  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

your  conscience  would  not  p^rick  you  as  it  does  about  this 
little  bracelet.  No  one  who  was  going  to  do  a  very  great 
wrong  could  be  troubled  by  the  thought  of  a  small  infi- 
delity"." 

Miss  Dash  wood  made  no  answer.  Possibly  she  thought 
Esther's  arguments  weak  ;  possibly  she  thought  the  whole 
subject  one  of  those  which  do  not  gain  much  by  ventila- 
tion. "  I  think  I  am  very  selfish  in  keeping  you  up  after 
your  long  journey,"  she  began,  when  both  had  remained 
silent  for  some  minutes;  "but  before  we  say  good-night, 
there  is  just  one  thing  I  should  like  to  tell  you  —  some- 
thing about  Lord  Feltham.  Would  you  mind  staying 
one  quarter  of  an  hour  longer  to  hear  it  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  would  like  to  stay.  This  arm-chair  and  warm 
fire  make  me  disinclined  to  go  away.  Has  it  anything  to 

do I  mean,  has  it  any — any  connection  with  Paul 

Ghichester?" 

"None  at  all,  Esther."  And  Miss  Dash  wood  came  and 
put  her  hand  kindly  round  the  girl's  neck.  "  Let  me  give 
you  a  bit  of  very  sincere  advice  —  don't  love  Paul.  When 
he  first  went  away  from  me  to  you  in  Bath,  I  was  a  little 
bit  jealous;  I  don't  mind  confessing  it;  and  that  hindered 
me,  perhaps,  from  warning  you  as  heartily  as  I  ought  to 
have  done  about  the  danger  you  ran  in  being  intimate 
with  him.  He  can  never  marry ;  he  has  told  me  so  him- 
self; others,  his  own  brother  even,  have  told  me  that  he 
is  irrevocably  bound  for  life.  Why  should  you  care  for 
him?  You  are  young,  you  are  handsome,  the  .world  is 
full  of  people  who  only  need  to  know  you  to  like  you. 
Why  should  you  go  and  fix  your  heart  upon  a  broken- 
down,  penniless  man  like  Paul  Chichester  ?  These  things 
can't  be  undone  afterwards,  Esther ;  the  outset  is  the 
time  for  the  struggle.  Resolutely  keep  your  mind  from 
Paul.  When  his  face,  when  his  voice  will  come  before 
you,  get  up,  read,  talk,  rush  away  out  of  the  room,  out  of 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  337 

tne  house,  anything  to  eScape  from  yourself.  It  is 
not  the  man  himself;  you  know,  it  is  your  own  imagin- 
ation that  makes  you  in  love  up  to  a  certain  point  —  the 
point  after  which  no  effort  can  save  you  any  more  !  Es- 
ther, you  are  too  good  to  ^waste  your  life  as  I  have  done. 
Take  my  advice.  I  afii  as  old  as  a  woman  of  thirty  in 
everything  to  do  with  tne  bitter  folly  of  love.  Take  my 
advice  ;  give  up  thinking  of  Paul.  He  is  not  worthy  of 
you ! " 

"  I  don't  want  him  to  be  worthy,"  said  Esther;  but  she 
shielded  the  firelight  away  nervously  with  her  hands. 
"He  is  no  more  to  me  than. any  other  man.  I  am  going 
to  teach  little  Natty;  I  am  going,  heart  and  soul,  to  at- 
tend to  my  duties.  No  fear  of  my  dreaming  of  him  or 
of  any  one  else  ;  I  shall  have  no  time.  And,  besides,  Mr. 
Chichester  does  not  care  one  atom  for  me.  He  liked  me 
as  a  man  of  that  age  might  like  an  unformed,  plain,  coun- 
try girl  at  Bath,  nothing  more.  It  is  nearly  a  year  since 
I  saw  him,  and  he  hasn't  even  written  me  one  line  in  all 
these  weary  months." 

And  then  her  voice  stopped  with  singular  unphilosophi- 
cal  abruptness,  and  the  great  tears  gathered  slowly  in  her 
eyes. 

Miss  Dashwood  looked  at  her  with  genuine  pity.  To 
her  —  and  she  really  had  had  ample  experience  —  no 
possible  misery  could  be  so  great  for  a  woman  as  to  love 
without  fortune.  Even  while  she  was  mad  enough  still 
to  care  for  Arthur  Peel,  all  her  opinions  respecting  love 
were  cynical,  hard,  worldly,  as  Milly's.  She  had  no  be- 
lief in  the  worthiness  of  any  man.  Of  Paul  Chichester's 
real  character  she  could  not  form  half  so  true  an  estimate 
as  Esther,  in  her  innate  childish  longing  to  believe  in 
another's  goodness,  had  done.  He  was  poor,  embarrassed, 
living  on  evil  terms  with  his  family  —  what  should  make 
him  thus  but  the  same  class  of  selfish,  vices  of  which  she 
15 


338  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

had  seen  so  many  samples  among  the. Peels  and  dozens 
of  others  ?  All  men,  according  to  the  Dash  wood  creecu 
were  vicious,  all  men  were  natural  enemies;  to  be  van- 
quished and  discomfited  by  all  weapons,  and  with  the 
least  possible  risk  to  the  vanquisher.  And  Jane  had 
enough  esprit  de  corps  —  perhaps  enough  real  generosity 
—  to  feel  genuine  regret  as  she  looked  in  Esther's  face 
and  read  there  that  one  who  should  have  been  a  victor 
was  already  among  the  ranks  of  the  slain.  Lost  far  more 
irrevocably  than  she  had  been  with  all  her  love  and  mad- 
ness for  Arthur.  For  Esther  she  dimly  and  yet  intuitive- 
ly felt  was  a  woman  who  would  love  for  life  ! 

She  had  too  much  knowledge  to  launch  another  direct 
shaft  against  Paul ;  but  as  the  tears  slowly  swept  away 
from  Esther's  eyes  she  began  to  speak  of  Lord  Feltham ; 
and  to  speak  of  any  man  was,  in  Miss  Dash  wood's  present 
mood,  to  denounce  the  whole  race  as  false,  unworthy, 
perjured. 

"Before  I  had  been  engaged  to  him  a  week,  he  began, 
with  the  accustomed  fine  sense  of  honor  of  men,  to  tell 
me  of  his  last  love-affair,  and  of  all  that  it  had  cost  —  not 
himself,  but  his  beloved  —  when  the  affair  was  broken  off. 
It  is  about  this  that  I  want  to  tell  you,  Esther,  just  to 
hear  what  idea  you  take  from  it  of  my  fiances  character. 
She  was  a  most  worthy  person,  according  to  his  making 
out ;  one,  I  am  sure,  far  more  likely  to  suit  him  than  I 
shall  ever  be  —  sincere,  simple,  outspoken  :  something,  I 
should  fancy,  both  in  mind  and  face,  like  yourself, 
Esther." 

Esther  looked  up  quickly.  The  very  idea  was  void  of 
reason,  and  yet  —  and  yet  a  sharp  pang  of  suspicion  did, 
involuntarily  contract  her  heart. 

"  And  where  was  the  first  romance  acted  out,  Jane  ? 
Who  was  this  simple,  sincere,  outspoken  person,  of  whom 
you  are  the  successor '? 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  339 

"  Oh,  those  were  just  the  things  he  would  not  tell  me," 
replied  Miss  Dashwood.  "It  all  took  place  about  a  year 
and  a  half  ago  —  the  summer  before  last,  I  think.  He 
went  to  some  wild  country  place  for  fishing  —  in  Wales, 
I  believe  —  and  met  a  well-looking  young  farmer's  daugh- 
ter one  morning  gazing  at  herself  in  a  stream,  and  she 
fell  in  love  with  him  on  the  spot  —  this  part,  naturally, 
was  shadowed  forth  rather  than  put  into  words  —  and 
then  all  the  commonplace  story  followed,  as  a  matter  ot 
course." 

"  And  the  farmer's  daughter  offered  to  marry  him,  I 
suppose  ?"  suggested  Miss  Fleming  ;  but  as  she  spoke  she 
turned  her  face  quickly  away  into  shadow.  "  And  out  oi 
sheer  pity  he  was  forced  to  consent.  Is  that  the  end  ot 
the  story  ?  " 

"  Well,  not  exactly.  No  man,  even  as  vain  a  one  as 
Feltham,  has  the  face  quite  to  make  such  an  assertion  as 
that;  it  carries  its  falsehood  written  too  palpably  upon 
the  surface.  The  farmer's  daughter  was  wildly,  passion- 
ately in  love,  and  carried  away  by  country  air  and  com- 
passion, his  lordship,  in  a  rash  moment,  asked  her  to 
become  his  wife." 

"  What  a  noble  piece  of  generosity  !  " 

"  Then  came  the  parting.  Pie  was  ordered  away  sud- 
denly to  join  his  regiment,  which  was  supposed  to  be 
under  orders  for  India  (pity  it  had  not  gone  there,  Es- 
ther!  ^1  believe,  at  this  moment,  I  could  get  up  a  little 
morsel  of  sentiment  about  him,  if  I  thought  he  was  being 
killed  upon  a  field  of  battle  instead  of  snipe-shooting  at 
Corfu,)  and  the  poor  disconsolate  Phillis  was  left  to  mourn. 
Well,  can  you  guess  what  first  began  to  wake  him  to  his 
folly  ?  Not  meeting  some  one  worthier  of  him,  not 
calmly  reasoning  over  his  weakness,  but  the  poor  girl's 
own  letters." 

Esther  gave   one   little   instinctive   start   of  surprise. 


340  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  They  were  badly  spelt,  no  doubt,  she  cried.  The  faulty 
orthography  revolted  against  Lord  Feltham's  delicate 
sense  of  refinement." 

"  That's  what  I  thought,  and  I  asked  him  to  show  me 
one." 

"  Go  on,  Jane." 

"And  he  refused  to  do  so.  How  interested  you  look, 
Esther !  Have  you  got  to  that  point  in  which  any  account 
of  men's  small  basenesses  has  especial  interest  for  you  ? 
I  sincerely  hope  not.  It  would  not  be  exactly  honor- 
able, you  know,  to  show  one  woman's  love-letters  to 
another,  although  it  is  perfectly  honorable  to  boast  of  hav- 
ing gained,  then  cast  aside,  her  heart.  However,  though 
he  did  not  —  most  probably  could  not  —  produce  them, 
Lord  Feltham  was  able  to  give  me  a  very  fair  idea  of  the 
nature  of  his  first  love-letters.  He  gets  none  such  from 
me,  I  can  answer  for  it." 

"  So  badly  expressed,  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  So  full  of  generous  feeling,  of  honest  confidence,  Es- 
ther. Little  though  he  meant  me  to  think  so,  this  poor 
country  girl  was,  I  am  convinced,  far  above  her  lover  both 
in  heart  and  brain.  All  the  jealous  misgivings  of  her 
own  heart,  all  her  fears  that  she  did  not  really  love  him  in 
the  way  a  woman  should  love  the  man  she  marries,  were 
poured  out  in  these  letters,  and  what  do  you  suppose  was 
the  result? 

"'For  the  sake  of  my  own  word  I  would  have  married 
her,'  his  lordship  confided  to  me,  '  and  having  once  pass- 
ed that  word  no  consideration  of  her  lowly  birth  or  wrant 
of  fortune  would,  for  one  moment,  have  had  weight. 
But  her  letters  frightened  me.  I  could  stand  any  form 
of  temper,  I  could  reconcile  myself  to  indifference,  but  a 
woman  with  a  passionate,  exacting,  self-questioning,  self- 
torturing  disposition  would  just  drive  me  wild.  These 
fine  characters  for  play  or  novel  are  the  ones  to  make  a 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         341 

man  like  me  utterly  wretched  in  domestic  life.'  He 
wasn't  quick  enough  to  see  how  poor  the  compliment  was 
that  he  implied  to  me  by  such  a  speech,  and  you  may  be 
sure  no  look  or  word  of  mine  enlightened  him  ;  but  I  did 
feel,  Esther,  yes,  I  did,  how  small  he  was!  How  great  a 
fool  to  have  given  up  a  woman  who  could  love  him,  how 
thoroughly  little  to  be  able  to  speak  of  her  like  this  to 
her  successor ! " 

"  He  has  only  lately  succeeded  to  his  title,  you  say  ?  " 
and  Esther's  voice  was  singularly  low  and  unmoved  as 
she  asked  this. 

"  Only  about  a  year  ago,  but,  to  do  him  justice,  I  don't 
believe  that  that,  or  any  worldly  consideration,  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  his  breaking  off  his  engagement.  He 
was  summoned  back  hastily  to  England  to  attend  his 
cousin's  death-bed;  went  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  see 
his  lady-love ;  as  a  matter  of  course  —  the  cooling  process 
having  been  once  set  up  —  was  more  utterly  disittusione 
the  moment  he  did  see  her,  and  one  fine  morning  or  win- 
ter evening,  I  forget  which,  found  himself  Lord  Feltham 
and  a  free  man  at  about  the  same  moment." 

"  His  name  before  then  was  —  ?  " 

"  Care w,  of  course.  The  Honorable  Oliver  Care  w.  I 
remember  quite  well  dancing  with  him  two  or  three  sea- 
sons ago,  and  wondering  whether  the  raw  material  would 
ever  come  into  anything  like  shape  as  it  got  older.  Little 
I  thought  then  I  should  have  anything  to  do  with  the 
shaping  of  it !  You  have  never  seen  his  photograph, 
have  you  ?  Let  me  get  it  for  you,  and  say  whether  it  is 
astonishing  that  any  poor  little  simple  country  girl  should 
go  near  to  breaking  her  heart  for  such  an  Adonis !  " 

Miss  Dashwood  went  to  her  dressing-table,  took  a  small 
case  from  it,  and  put  a  portrait  into  Esther's  hands.  Oli- 
ver Carew's  portrait. 

Miss  Fleming  looked  at  it  quite  calmly ;  listened  to  Jane 


342  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Dashwood's  running  commentaries  upon  its  defects  and 
beauties ;  and  gave  not  the  faintest  visible  sign  of  emo- 
tion as  she  did  so.  Very  few  men  possess  this  kind  of 
courage :  all  women  do.  It  is  the  instinct  of  conceal- 
ment given  by  nature  for  self-preservation  to  the  weaker 
creature :  nothing  more.  All  a  mistake  to  call  it  either 
superior  power  of  endurance  or  superior  capacity  for  de- 
ceit. In  supreme  moments,  and  with  one  of  her  own  sex 
present,  any  woman  can  conceal^  or  act,  or  feign  any  pas- 
sion whatsoever,  and  this  without  effort,  almost  without 
consciousness  of  her  own.  The  beetles  who  extend  their 
feet  in  the  air,  and  pretend  death  when  you  touch  them, 
don't,  I  fancy,  go  through  any  process  of  mental  or  mor- 
al ratiocination  prior  to  that  action. 

"  He  seems  to  have  good  eyes,  Jane,  and  rather  a  nice 
mouth.  I  admire  Lord  Feltham." 

"  Because  you  have  never  seen  him.  His  photograph 
is  handsomer  than  himself,  as  is  always  the  case  with  men 
of  tolerably  straight  features  and  no  mind,  no  expression. 
Do  you  think  him  handsomer  than  Paul,  for  example  ?  " 

"They  bear  no  comparison.  As  far  as  feature  goes, 
Lord  Feltham  might  be  considered  the  best-looking." 

"  And  how  do  you  judge  of  him  after  what  I  have  just 
told  you  ?  He  must  have  a  great  deal  of  delicacy,  of 
generosity,  must  he  not,  to  choose  me  for  his  confessor  on 
such  a  theme  ?  " 

"  I  have  no-doubt  there  are  many  men  who  would  do 
the  same.  Vanity,  desire  even  to  appear  well  with  you, 
might  make  him  lightly  betray  the  confidence  of  this  un- 
known country  girl.  And,  besides  "  —  but  here  her  voice 
did  falter  a  little  —  "  you  don't  say  that  she  wished  him 
to  be  faithful.  He  did  not  tell  you  that  the  infidelity  was 
wholly  on  his  side  ?  " 

Jane  Dashwood  laughed ;  and,  although  the  whole 
matter  was  disconnected  with  Paul,  disconnected  with 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  343 

the  man  she  loved,  Esther  felt  she  almost  hated  her  for 
that  light  laugh — so  hard  is  it  for  any  woman  to  see 
even  a  rejected  lover  in  the  keeping  of  another. 

"  As  I  have  told  you  so  much,  Esther,  I  may  as  well 
tell  you  all.  The  story  isn't  a  particularly  interesting  one 
to  you  or  to  me,  still  it  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  truth 
of  what  I  said  to  you,  that  any  man  is  unworthy  of  the 
honest  love  of  any  woman.  This  country  girl,  whose 
name  even  I  don't  know,  evidently  loved  Lord  Feltham 
a  thousand  times  better  than  I  or  any  one  else  will  ever 
love  him  while  he  lives.  He  tired  of  her  —  tired  of  the 
very  strength  of  her  exacting  honest  love  —  broke  with 
her  when  his  coldness  had  roused  her  temper  to  the 
utmost,  and  then  told  me,  her  accidental  successor,  every 
particular  of  the  love  affair  !  He  did  more.  I  hate  him 
for  it.  He  gave  me  a  relic  of  hers  !  You  shall  see  it.  I 
can't  bear  to  have  it  in  my  possession.  According  to 
my  weak  faulty  code  of  honor  there  is  treachery  in  my 
ever  having  seen  it.  What  do  you  say  ?  Your  ideas  are 
fresher  and  truer  than  mine  in  these  things." 

She  went  to  a  bureau,  and  presently  took  from  it  a 
little  packet  which  she  gave  into  Esther's  hand.  "  Open 
it  and  look,  Esther,  there  is  nothing  much  to  see.  'Only 
a  woman's  hair,'  only  a  woman's  ribbon,  you  know.  The 
old,  old  story." 

Esther  opened  and  found  — a  little  'blue  silk  neck-tie, 
one  she  had  worn  that  last  night  when  they  were  together 
on  the  moors,  and  which  Oliver's  urgent  prayers  had 
made  her  yield  to  him  as  they  parted  at  the  garden  gate. 
"  He  gave  you  this !  "  she  cried.  "  It  was  false !  it  was 
very  false ! " 

"  And,  indirectly,  it  contradicted  his  own  account," 
said  Miss  Dash  wood.  "No  girl,  not  the  most  ignorant, 
the  most  forward,  ever  gave  such  a  gift  as  that  to  a  man 
unless  he  sued  for  it.  Don't  misunderstand  me,  however," 


344  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

she  added,  "  by  thinking  that  Lord  Feltham  brought  his 
love-tokens  to  me,  and  boasted  of  them  in  cold  blood. 
Of  that,  I  should  hope,  for  his  own  sake,  even  his  vanity 
is  incapable.  As  far  as  the  ribbon  first  coming  into  my 
hands  goes,  I  must  confess  it  was  my  fault.  I  was  in  a 
miserable  temper  one  day  (it  was  quite  early  in  my  en- 
gagement, and  Arthur  had  met  us  together  and  congrat- 
ulated me,  poor  fellow !  without  a  quiver  on  his  lips,)  a 
temper  in  which  the  only  hope  of  distraction  lies  in 
making  some  one  else  as  miserable  as  oneself,  and  so 
when  Feltham  wanted  to  begin  the  accustomed  love-mak- 
ing I  drew  myself  away  from  him  —  that  I  always  do  in 
spirit,  mind,  if  not  openly  —  and  told  him  I  was  convinced 
he  did  not  really  care  an  atom  for  me,  that  his  heart  was 
with  his  first  pastoral,  simple  love,  and  so  on.  You  know 
—  no,  you  don't  know,  the  kind  of  way  one  has  of  tor- 
menting, without  really  alienating,  any  man  who  is  fool 
enough  to  be  tormented.  He  listened  to  me  a  long  time 
without  being  much  moved  ;  at  last,  when  I  had  said 
something  very  bitter,  he  jumped  up  and  the  blood  flew 
into  his  foolish  face,  and  he  asked  me,  very  hot  and  nerv- 
ous, how  he  could  prove  to  me  that  he  loved  me,  and  that 
my  suspicions  were  wrong.  'Give  me  up  whatever  relics 
you  possess  of  your  first  foolish  love,'  I  cried.  'Not  the 
letters,  for  it  would  bore  me  to  death  even  to  look  at 
them,  but  everything  else.  I  won't  believe  you  care  for 
me  if  you  don't  promise  to  give  up  all  the  girl's  presents 
to  me  at  once.' 

"  He  looked  irresolute,  so  I  held  my  handkerchief  to 
my  face,  and  then  —  well  then,  naturally,  he  promised. 
He  had  but  one  relic,  he  said,  one  poor  and  worthless  gift, 
which  it  would  have  been  better  for  him  to  have  destroy- 
ed with  his  own  hands ;  however,  as  I  wished  it,  I  should ' 
have  it,  and  I  had  it,  of  course,  that  night.  Esther,  how 
I  hate  weakness  in  men !  A  man  of  common  honesty 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  345 

ought  to  have  given  me  up  sooner  than  have  let  me  touch 
what  had  belonged  to  another  woman.  Don't  you  think 
so?" 

But  Esther  made  no  answer.  She  was  not  in  a  condi- 
tion to  speak.  Not  alone  her  faith  in  Oliver  —  that  had 
never  been  strong  —  but  her  belief  in  all  love,  her  hope 
in  life,  her  faith  in  Paul,  seemed  ebbing  from  her  fast,  as 
she  sat  there  with  her  own  little  faded  neck-ribbon  in  her 
hand.  Even  as  her  first  girlish  love  had  been  betrayed 
and  died,  so,  a  voice  seemed  to  say  to  her,  would  her  pres- 
ent one.  And  love  was  her  life ;  and  all  the  feelings  at 
which  Jane  Dash  wood  sneered  were  the  feelings  she  con- 
sidered holiest  and  best  worth  possessing;  and  if  this 
new  creed  were  really  true  and  the  old  one  hollow,  she 
felt  it  would  be  a  very  good  thing  indeed  just  to  die  at 
this  moment  with  the  little  relic  of  her  girlish  life  in  her 
hand,  and  the  passion  so  warm  and  strong  and  full  of  vi- 
tality yet  in  her  heart.  If  she  lived  and  found  Paul 
worthless,  what  should  hinder  her  from  becoming  like 
Miss  Dash  wood  or  Mrs.  Scott? 

"  You  are  half-asleep,  Esther,"  broke  in  Jane's  voice, 
"  and  it  is  just  like  my  selfishness  to  keep  you  here  listen- 
ing to  things  about  which  you  cannot  possibly  feel  any  in- 
terest. Go  off  to  your  bed,  dear,"  and  she  leant  over 
and  kissed  the  girl's  flushed  cheek ;  "  you  ought  to  have 
been  there  two  hours  ago  at  least  —  only  just  tell  rne  be- 
fore you  go  what  you  think  I  ought  to  do  with  poor  Phil- 
lis's  neck-ribbon  ?  " 

"  Burn  it,"  said  Esther,  curtly.  "  If  you  like  I  will  do 
it  for  you."  And  she  rose  and  held  her  hand  out  to  the 
fire. 

"I — well  —  "  Miss  Dash  wood  hesitated  "perhaps  it  is 
best  so  after  all ;  Lord  Feltham  is  not  likely  ever  to  ask 
me  for  the  thing  again." 

"Not  at  all  likely,"  returned  Esther,  with  a  laugh  ;  "  he 
15* 


346  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

regarded  it  simply  as  a  trophy  of  the  woman  who  had 
loved  him,  not  as  a  relic  of  the  woman  he  had  loved. 
Let  us  hope  that  Phillis  has  outlived  the  remembrance  of 
her  folly  as  utterly  as  he  has." 

And  then  she  dropped  the  ribbon  into  the  fire,  and 
stood  and  watched  patiently  until  the  last  shred  of  its 
frail  fabric  had  consumed  away  into  ashes. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

DANGEROUS. 

PERHAPS  there  are  few  more  edifying  scenes  in  the 
drama  of  social  life  than  that  afforded  by  two  thorough 
women  of  the  world  who  have  been  intimate,  who  have 
clashed,  and  who  are  now  living,  and  purposing  to  live, 
on  terms  of  great  affection  and  esteem.  How  they  meet, 
how  they  kiss,  how  they  admire  each  other's  dresses !  how 
they  stab,  how  they  wound,  how  they  injure  in  every  pos- 
sible way,  and  how  they  smile  amidst  it  all ! 

Men  quarrel  grossly  —  somewhat  as  inferior  animals 
.  quarrel :  an  insult,  a  blow ;  a  sarcasm,  a  direct  reply  ; .  a 
rivalry,  a  definite  estrangement.  In  a  woman's  feuds 
there  is  the  essentially  human  element  —  the  capacity 
for  feigning,  for  ambuscading,  for  patient,  long-suffering 
hatred,  for  the  outpouring  of  sudden  deadly  venom 
months,  years,  after  the  first  wound  has,  to  the  eyes  of 
careless  beholders,  healed. 

Women  are  better  lovers  of  the  other  sex,-  and  better 
haters  of  their  own,  than  men  ;  who,  among  other  mascu- 
line qualities,  are  really  capable  of  genuine  friendship  and 
of  genuine  forgiveness.  If  you  have  offended  a  commonly- 
honest  man,  and  he  is  once  able  to  get  over  the  offence 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         347 

and  take  your  hand,  I  don't  think  you  have  more  to  fear 
from  him  than  from  another;  but  let  a  woman  injure  a 
woman,  in  anything  pertaining  to  men,  and  show  me  one 
solitary  case  in  which  hearty,  absolute  forgiveness  is  the 
result. 

I  am  cynical,  you  say ;  this  is  a  one-sided  view  of  hu- 
man nature  :  there  are  women  who  take  delight  in  each 
other's  success,  who  absent  themselves  at  opportune  times, 
that  their  friend  may  marry  the  man  they  themselves 
love.  Ah,  well,  I  have  heard  of  all  these  things  in  fiction, 
and  in  pretty  little  poems  also,  but  I  have  not  found  them 
confirmed  by  what  I  have  read  of  women  in  history,  nor 
by  any  experience  I  have  gleaned  in  contact  with  my 
kind.  When  I  meet  with  such  generosity  in  life  I  will 
gladly  bear  witness  —  yes,  on  that  moment  I  will  sit  down 
and  write  and  publish  some  book  wherein  my  new  expe- 
rience shall  be  frankly,  generously  recorded.  Until  then, 
I  must  speak  of  things  as  I  find  them. 

Novelists,  at  best,  are  one  of  the  doubtful  benefits  of 
an  advanced  stage  of  civilization  ;  but  what  would  novel- 
ists be  if,  from  highest  to  lowest,  each  one  of  them  did 
not  speak  his  own  small  personal  experience  of  men  and 
women  to  the  world.  How  would  a  naturalist  be  for- 
warding science,  who,  after  a  careful,  minute  investiga- 
tion of  the  habits,  say,  of  a  Chimpanzee  ape,  should  de- 
clare "  these  are  not  what  a  Chimpanzee's  domestic  mor- 
als ought  to  be  ;  let  me  rather  ascribe  to  him  the  charm- 
ing instincts  and  affections  of  a  Kooloo-kamba  ?  "  Why, 
such  a  man's  testimony  would  be  that  of  a  fool.  Let  him 
describe  the  Chimpanzees  he  has  seen  ;  let  a  novelist  de- 
scribe the  men  and  women  he  has  seen ;  and  let  other 
historians  paint  the  habits  of  the  virtuous  Kooloo-kambas, 
or  of  the  idealized,  passionless  creatures  of  the  human 
species  across  whose  path  a  kindly  Providence  may  have 
cast  them. 


34:8  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

It  was  a  year  or  two  before  the  commencement  of  this 
story  that  Mrs.  Strangways  first  carne  across  Paul  Chi- 
chester,  thoroughly  by  accident,  in  the  box  of  a  mutual 
friend  at  the  opera.  Paul  was  then  much  as  I  have  pre- 
sented him  to  you  ;  moody,  fitful,  and  wearing  an  exceed- 
ingly threadbare  coat ;  but  in  one  of  those  eccentric  fem- 
inine caprices  which  no  sane  man  would  even  so  much  as 
attempt  to  solve,  Mrs.  Strangways  fell  in  love  —  no,  I  am. 
loath  to  use  that  word  —  Mrs.  Strangways  fell  into  a  fan- 
cy for  him. 

She  was  in  the  zenith  of  her  power  then  ;  a  dozen  men 
in  the  house  would  have  given  months  of  patient  hard 
work  to  obtain  but  half  of  the  looks  which  she  accorded 
to  Paul's  unconscious  face  that  first  night.  And  she  knew 
that  he  was  indifferent,  and  liked  him  the  more  for  it ; 
and  the  flatteries  of  men  whose  attention,  up  to  that  time, 
had  seemed  the  one  thing  in  London  worth  coveting,  be- 
came suddenly  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable  in  her  sight  > 
and  when  she  went  home  it  was  to  dream,  not  as  usual 
of  the  people  who  had  envied  her  successes,  and  of  the 
instrument  by  which  the  successes  had  been  won,  but  of 
one  sombre  unknown  face,  of  one  low  voice,  which  had 
not  spoken  above  a  dozen  words  into  her  ear.  As  much 
as  it  was  in  such  a  nature  to  feel  a  regard  in  which  no 
small  vanity,  no  idea  of  personal  triumph  could  enter^ 
Mrs.  Strangways  did  feel  it,  in  those  early  days,  for  Paul. 

With  her  resources  and  her  determination,  she  was  not 
long  in  bringing  him  to  her  house.  "  Mr.  Chichester  will 
not  go  to  parties,"  said  the  friend  in  whose  box  she  had 
seen  him :  "  the  opera  is  the  only  place  of  amusement  to 
which  he  ever  goes,  and  even  there  his  visits  are  rare. 
That  you  saw  him  once  in  rny  box  is  a  matter  of  purest 
accident.  We  are  old  friends  of  his  father's  family,  and 
about  twice  a  year  he  cornes  in,  unexpectedly,  as  he  did 
last  night,  to  dine  with  us.  For  the  rest,  we  don't  even 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        349 

know  where  Paul  Chichester  lives.  Notes  left  for  him  at 
such  a  stationer's  in  New  Bond  Street  find  him." 

Notes  left  at  that  stationer's  in  Now  Bond  Street  very 
soon  did  find  him ;  invitations  to  dinner,  invitations  to 
morning  concerts,  invitations  to  evening  parties ;  every 
kind  of  invitation  with  which  a  man's  temptation  can  be 
compassed.  He  refused  them  all,  systematically ;  that 
Mrs.  Strangwa}rs  expected ;  and  then  he  came  to  call  at 
the  house.  I  believe  he  only  meant,  in  his  heart,  to  leave 
a  card ;  but  fate  —  which  certainly  does  seem  to  assist 
unworthy  persons  as  well  as  good  ones  —  fate  willed  that 
at  the  very  moment  when  he  was  standing,  rather  irreso- 
lutely, at  Mrs.  Strangways'  door,  Mrs.  Strangways  her- 
self returned  from  her  afternoon  ride,  and  Paul,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  simple  courtesy,  had  to  assist  her  from  her  horse, 
and  then  accompany  her  into  the  house. 

It  was  just  in  the  dusk  of  a'winter's  afternoon,  and  in- 
stead of  ordering  lights,  Mrs.  Strangways  stirred  up  the 
fire  into  a  ruddy  blaze,  and  seating  herself  on  a  low  ot- 
toman beside  it,  began  to  talk  to  Paul  as  if  she  had  known 
him  twenty  years  at  least.  Her  lithe  and  rounded  figure, 
her  mass  of  falling  golden  hair  never  showed  to  greater 
beauty  than  when  she  was  en  amazone.  She  looked  doubly 
beautiful  by  the  kindly  aid  of  this  soft  light,  and  height- 
ened by  every  charm  of  a  voice  and  manner  that  more 
than  a  dozen  years  had  trained  to  perfection  in  the  science 
of  seduction. 

When  Paul  found  himself  in  the  cold  street,  walking 
home  to  his  hard  prosaic  life,  that  night  it  did  come  upon 
him,  strongly,  that  there  are  things  sweeter  than  duty  in 
this  world ;  that  he  was  acting  quixotically  in  giv- 
ing up  all  the  rest  of  humanity  for  the  sake  of  the  one 
poor  blighted  life  that  happened  to  have  a  moral  claim 
upon  him  ;  that  —  and  here  lay  the  most  dangerous  temp- 
tation of  all  —  it  might,  at  least,  lighten  his  dark,  dull  ex- 


350  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

istence  to  look  occasionally  at  the  world  into  which  he 
should  nevermore  in  reality  enter ;  it  would  enable  him  to 
work  better,  more  heartily,  more  genially,  if  sometimes  — 
once  or  twice  in  a  month  —  he  were  to  abandon  himself 
to  the  perilous  pleasure  of  gazing  upon  the  refined  and 
lovely  face,  of  listening  to  the  gentle  syren  accents  of  the 
woman  he  had  left. 

In  another  month  he  had  become  intimate  with  her. 
Only  at  certain  hours  on  certain  days,  was  he  free ;  but 
every  one  of  these  hours  (all  twilight  ones)  he  gave  to 
Mrs.  Strangways,  who  invariably  remained  at  home  and 
alone  when  she  knew  that  he  was  coming,  There  was  no 
one  to  interfere  with  their  intimacy.  Mr.  Strangways 
was  abroad  ;  friends  or  children  never  entered  the  room 
when  Paul  was  in  it.  Everything  was  against  him  ;  the 
circumstances,  the  time  of  meeting,  his  own  isolated  life, 
his  companion's  only  too  evident  preference  for  his  soci- 
ety. And  still  his  head  continued  sane,  his  heart  whole. 

He  was  not  a  man  to  love  through,  or,  consequently, 
to  be  won  by,  the  senses  alone.  That  dim-lighted, 
luxurious  little  drawing-room,  with  its  voluptuous  atmos- 
phere of  hot-house  flowers,  its  pictures,  its  statuettes; 
Mrs.  Strangways,  in  all  the  abandon  of  her  dangerous 
loveliness,  were  wholly  insufficient  to  compass  Paul's  en- 
slavement by  themselves.  Had  mind,  had  soul,  had 
genuine  passion,  even,  suddenly  arisen,  Phoenix-like,  from 
that  merely  lovely  shell  of  hers  in  addition  to  all  its  un- 
deniable physical  charms,  I  cannot  take  upon  myself  to 
say  that  his  strength  of  will  would  have  been  superhuman. 
As  it  was,  he  never,  no,  not  for  one  moment,  stood  upon 
the  threshold  of  danger. 

For  a  man  like  him  to  fall  into  an  entanglement  from 
which  principle,  from  which  reason  alike  held  him  back, 
some  part  of  his  own  better  nature  must,  from  the  onset, 
be  enlisted  against  himself.  He  must  honor,  even  while 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  351 

he  dishonors ;  he  must  take  refuge  against  that  contempt 
which  is  the  deatn  of  love  by  dwelling  on  or  imagining, 
whatever  of  gold  is  separable  from  the  clay  whereof  his 
idol  is  made. 

But  Paul,  from  the  first,  knew  that  there  was  no  gold  in 
Mrs.  Strangways.  He  was  too  worldly-wise,  too  shrewd, 
not  to  perceive  that  all  her  best  poses,  moral  as  well  as 
physical,  were  poses  that  had  been  gone  through  a  hundred 
times  before.  He  was  too  fresh,  too  genuine  of  heart, 
not  to  detect  the  false  ring,  the  base  a\loy  of  Palais  Royal 
gold,  discernible  through  all  her  most  exalted  sentiments 
and  little  childish  outbursts  of  self-sacrifice  and  self- 
forgetfulness. 

As  a  beautiful  picture,  as  an  all-but-finished  actress,  he 
admired  her ;  as  a  charming  companion  —  the  zest  of 
novelty  yet  upon  their  acquaintance  —  he  sought  her  ;  as 
a  woman,  however  artificial,  however  erring,  he  liked  her 
and  would  have  spoken  well,  of  her  till  he  died,  for  her 
undisguised  preference  for  himself.  More  than  this  she 
had  it  not  in  her  to  influence  him.  Just  at  that  particular 
time,  the  ice  of  long  habit  broken,  his  imagination  warm- 
ing around  subjects  so  long  forbidden,  Paul  Chichester's 
loyalty  might  easily  have  been  estranged,  and  by  a  far 
plainer  woman,  one  far  less  skilled  in  pleasing  than  Mrs. 
Strangways.  But  it  was  not  to  be  so.  Mrs.  Strangways 
continued  his  sole  acquaintance,  and  for  Mrs.  Strangways 
he  never  felt  one  spark  of  genuine  love,  or  even  of  that 
other  compound  of  selfish  pasion  and  selfish  vanity  which 
men  and  women  of  the  world  are  accustomed  to  dignify 
by  the  name. 

She  failed,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  was  sensible  of 
her  failure,  and  yet  she  did  not  hate  him!  He  was  so  de- 
void of  vanity,  so  thorough,  so  manly,  so  delicate  in  all 
his  intercourse  with  her,  that  even  Mrs.  Strangways  heart 
could  not  keep  from  liking  him  under  the  very  assurance 


852  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

of  her  own  defeat.  She  had  begun  by  wishing  to  enslave 
him  ;  she  ended  by  being  —  for  at  least  six  weeks  — en- 
slaved ;  yes,  and  guilty  though  such  a  feeling  must,  of 
necessity,  be,  by  about  the  honestest  influence  of  all  her 
poor,  false,  wasted,  frivolous  life.  At  the  end  of  these  six, 
weeks  it  occurred  to  Paul  that  he  was  acting  as  he  had 
no  longer  any  right  to  do  in  coming  so  often  to  see  her ; 
a  look,  a  word,  a  tone,  something,  I  scarce  know  what,  on 
Mrs.  Strangways'  part,  conveyed  this  knowledge  to  him, 
and  he  at  once  began  to  make  his  visits  more  rare.  She 
was  not  quite  sure  of  him  as  yet ;  not  quite  sure  that  his 
coldness  was  not  feigned  —  part  of  that  same  game  she 
had  herself  so  often  played  out  and  tired  of,  and  by  dint 
of  much  exertion  and  many  subtle  manceuvers  she  suc- 
ceeded in  inducing  him  to  come  to  a  large  ball  at  her 
house.  If  he  was  using  one  of  the  ordinary  weapons  in 
such  warfare,  she  would  bring  forward  the  acknowledged 
best  system  of  counter-attack.  Mr.  Chichester  should  see 
the  woman  towards  whom  he  would  profess  a  waning  in- 
terest surrounded,  courted,  admired  by  a  score  of  other 
men. 

He  saw  her  so  ;  and  whatever  poor  remains  of  his  first 
feelings  for  her  yet  lingered  they  received  their  death-blow 
that  night.  Drest,  excited,  flushed  with  success,  Mrs. 
Strangways  actually  repulsed  him.  His  feelings  towards 
a  woman  he  had  worshipped  would  not  have  been  height- 
ened by  seeing  her  an  object  of  passing  devotion  from  a 
roomful  of  other  men.  Personal  vanity  must  be  predom- 
inant in  a  man  whose  love  can  be  rekindled  by  such  small 
jealousy  as  this;  and  of  personal  vanity  Paul  Chichester 
had  singularly  little.  Mrs.  Strangways,  floating  before 
him  in  her  ball-dress,  possessed  successively  by  a  dozen 
and  a  half  of  partners  in  those  hot  and  crowded  dances, 
was  a  person  with  whom  he  had,  simply,  no  concern,  no 
interest  whatsoever.  He  might  see  her  again  by  her  own 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  353 

fireside  in  the  twilight;  might,  accidentally,  fall  foack  into 
his  old  liking  for  her  at  such  a  place  and  at  such  an  hour. 
At  this  ball  she  was  less  than  nothing  to  him  ;  and,  hours 
before  Mrs.  Strangways'  wearied  head  was  laid  upon  its 
pillow,  he  had  stolen  away  unseen,  got  back  to  his  home, 
and  forgotten  her  and  her  ball  and  all  belonging  to  her 
in  a  cool  and  dreamless  sleep. 

She  knew  from  that  night  upon  what  footing  they  were 
to  stand  to  each  other ;  and  still  she  did  not  hate  him  ; 
nay,  more,  she  did  not  strive  or  even  wish  to  hate  him. 
In  the  most  lost  and  humiliated  lives  we  know  that  one 
strong,  I  had  almost  said  one  pure,  passion  will  occasion- 
ally —  God  alone  knows  how  —  struggle  up  into  being, 
and  exist  and  have  vitality,  amid  all  the  corrupt  and 
choking  influences  of  the  moral  charnel-house  in  which  its 
unhappy  possessor  lives.  Higher  up  in  the  social  scale5 
in  a  class  not  reputed  guilty,  the  class  to  which  Mrs. 
Strangways  belonged,  it  does,  likewise,  occasionally  chance 
that  one  almost  natural,  almost  noble  sentiment  will  drag 
on  a  precarious  existence  for  a  time  among  the  hosts  of 
vain,  of  false,  of  unworthy  ones  with  which  such  hearts 
are  filled. 

Of  this  kind  became  Mrs.  Strangways'  regard  for  Paul. 
If  he  chose  for  weeks  together  not  to  come  near  the  house 
she  bore  his  neglect  with  patience,  and  received  him, 
when  he  did  come,  with  an  almost  genuine  flush  of  pleas- 
ure. She  hoarded  the  brief,  cold  notes  he  had  once  or 
twice  occasion  to  write  her  (putting  them  away,  not  with 
other,  later  trophies,  but  in  her  little  old  school-girl's  desk, 
where  her  father's  letters  still  lay)  ;  she  looked  forward, 
as  she  could  look  forward  to  nothing  else,  to  the  rare  oc- 
casions when  he  consented  to  go  with  her  to  the  Opera. 
When  he  was  with  her  there  she  would  have  turned  away 
from  the  stereotyped  flatteries  of  the  most  sought-after 
man  in  London  to  listen  to  the  very  plain,  and  frequent- 


§54  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

ly  very  scanty  words  that  fell  to  her  from  Paul  Chiches- 
ter's  lips. 

It  would  be  pretty,  in  the  abstract,  to  believe  that  this 
one  better  influence,  this  one  fact  of  honestly  liking  an 
honest  man  who  ministered  to  not  one  out  of  all  the 
worse  qualities  of  her  nature,  would  have  had  some  kind 
of  exalting  influence  upon  such  a  character  as  Mrs. 
Strangways'.  I  speak  of  facts.  It  had  no  exalting  in- 
fluence at  all.  With  him,  she  could  well-nigh  act  herself 
into  momentary  simplicity;  holding  one  of  his  notes,  a 
book  that  he  had  lent  her,  in  her  hand,  she  could  almost 
imagine  herself  such  a  woman  as  might  have  won  his  re- 
gard. At  all  other  times,  under  the  press  of  all  the  daily, 
hourly  temptations  of  her  life,  Mrs.  Strangways  was  Mrs. 
Strangways  still ;  nay,  more,  the  very  thought  of  the 
one  man  she  had  failed  to  win  made  her  more  desperate 
in  the  pursuit  of  every  other  object  in  which  success 
was  certain  and  forgetful  ness  possible. 

It  was  at  this  time  that,  restless  and  dissatisfied,  she 
persuaded  her  husband  to  let  their  London  house  and 
take  one  in  Bath  for  a  year ;  and  it  was  there  she  first 
made  Jane  Dash  wood's  acquaintance.  Paul  was  going  up 
and  down  to  Bath  just  then  (on  that  unknown  quest 
which  afterwards  filled  Milly's  heart  with  so  intense  a 
curiosity,)  and  almost  before  Mrs.  Strangways'  and  Jane's 
first  vows  of  eternal  affection  had  had  time  to  cool  he 
was  drawn  into  enacting  the  part  of  Miss  Dashwood's 
accepted  suitor.  And  this  leads  me  back  to  the  remark 
with  which  I  commenced  this  chapter  —  namely,  the 
edifying  sight  afforded  by  two  women  of  the  world  who 
have  clashed  and  are  still  living  on  terms  of  outward 
affection  and  esteem. 

All  the  bitterest  feelings  of  Mrs.  Strangways'  nature  — 
and,  mind,  her  capabilities  for  hate  were  immeasurably 
superior  to  those  for  loving  —  were  called  into  passion- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          355 

ate  life  by  Paul's  defalcation,  m6*ck  though  his  new  allegi- 
ance might  be.  She  detested  the  sight  of  Jane's  face,  the 
sound  of  her  voice,  of  her  very  foot-step  ;  and  still,  true  to 
the  instinctive  rules  of  strategy  which  nature  seems  to 
"implant  in  such  women's  brains,  she  invited  the  girl  more 
and  more  to  her  house,  and  professed  towards  her  a  con- 
tinually increasing  amount  of  strong  personal  affection. 

Jane  neither  liked  Mrs.  Strangways  nor  disliked  her, 
save  in  a  mild  contemptuous  way,  in  those  early  days. 
Few  human  beings,  either  in  love,  or  literature,  or  any 
of  the  great  battle-fields  of  life,  dislike  a  competitor  sim- 
ply because  they  have  outstripped  him.  It  was  when  her 
friend  had  taken  up  the  same  weapons  in  her  turn  —  when 
sharpest  of  all  reprisals,  Mrs.  Strangways  had  lured  Arthur 
Peel  to  her  side;  and  with  no  mock  engagement  here, 
but  with  the  tangible  fifty  thousand  pounds  of  Miss  Lynes 
—  that  Jane  began  to  feel  with  what  kind  of  enemy  she 
had  "o  deal.  It  was  in  vain  for  her  to  say  that  her  lover 
did  not,  in  truth,  admire  Mrs.  Strangways;  had  not, 
in  truth,  one  thought  of  selling  himself  in  marriage  to 
Miss  Lynes ;  the  facts  remained  unalterable.  Arthur 
Peel's  daily  visits  at  the  Strangways'  house,  Arthur  Peel's 
public  devotion  to  the  heiress,  were  things  as  patent 
now  to  the  circle  that  knew  them  in  London  as  they  had 
been  a  twelvemonth  before  to  the  circle  that  knew  them 
in  Bath. 

And  still  she  and  Mrs.  Strangways  kissed  when  they 
met,  and  still  Mrs.  Strangways  was  untiring  in  offering 
her  chaperonage  to  balls,  concerts  and  operas.  She  had 
forgotten  Paul  ?  you  suggest:  had  forgiven  Jane  for  being 
the  cause  of  his  first  infidelity?  Mrs.  Strangways  was 
not  a  woman  either  to  forget  or  forgive  even  in  small 
offences,  much  less  in  the  one  event  of  her  life  in  which 
her  own  heart  had  made  its  nearest  approach  to  strong 
and  genuine  feeling.  Her  game  was -a  sure  one.  She 


356  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

knew  every  turn  of  Arthur  Peel's  weak  mind  ;  was  already 
the  recipient  of  his  hopes,  the  mediator,  little  wanted, 
between  himself  and  MissLynes;  his  confidante  in  every- 
thing save  the  secret  jealous  attentions  which,  ever  since 
her  engagement  with  Lord  Feltham,  he  had  not  ceased  to 
offer  to  poor  Jane.  And  these  Mrs.  Strangways  divined, 
and,  if  it  had  been  in  her  power,  would  have  furthered. 
Jane  Dash  wood  should  have  him  to  the  last  —  to  the  last ! 
should  believe  he  loved  her  up  to  the  very  moment  when 
his  marriage  with  Miss  Lynes  was  announced.  And 

then 

And  then  she,  Henrietta  Strangways,  would  be  avenged ! 
Before  judging  her,  or  any  other  of  the  women  of  our 
time,  too  hardly,  however,  we  should  in  justice  remember 
that  the  days  of  secret  poisonings,  of  little  venomed  pres- 
ents of  gloves  and  flowers,  are  over ;  and  that  moral 
Btabs  are  really  the  only  ones  they  can  accord  to  their 
rivals.  Remember,  too,  that  for  a  temperament  like  hers 
the  sense  of  one  defeat  is  more  poignant  than  the  recol- 
lection of  a  hundred  successes ;  also,  that  during  all  her 
false  and  disappointed  life  the  nearest  thing  to  a  natural 
uncalculating  affection  that  she  had  ever  known  had  been 
her  regard  for  Paul ! 


CHAPTER  XXXYI. 

LISTENING    TO    GIUGLINI. 

THREE  or  four  days  after  Esther  Fleming's  arrival  Jane 
Dashwood  ran  one  morning  into  the  nursery,  where  she 
wTas  laboriously  striving  to  impress  some  rudimentary 
moral  truths  upon  Miss  Natty's  mind,  and  informed  her 
that  she  was  to  be  led  into  great  and  exciting  dissipation 
that  very  night. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         357 

"  Mrs.  Strangways  writes  and  proposes  to  take  you  and 
me  with  her  to  the  Opera.  She  has  made  up  quite  a 
large  party  ;  and  we  are  all  to  return  to  her  house  to 
supper  afterwards.  Good-natured,  is  it  not  ?  I  imagine 
her  reason  for  inviting  us  to  be  twofold  —  first,  that  I 
may  have  the  gratification  of  witnessing  Miss  Lynes'  at- 
tentions to  Arthur  during  the  entire  evening ;  secondly, 
that  Paul  Chichester  may  be  led  into  going  by  knowing 
he  will  meet  you.  However,  we'R  accept.  Giuglini  is  to 
sing,  which  you,  I  suppose,  will  care  for.  And  I  want 
you  to  see  Arthur  and  Miss  Lynes,  and  tell  me  what  you 
think  now  of  the  state  of  affairs  between  them." 

"  If  you  meet  Arthur,  I  shall  tell  my  papa !  "  cries  out 
the  enfant  terrible.  u  You  know  you're  not  to  meet  him. 
You're  to  marry  Lord  Feltham,  as  you've  promised.  And 
Miss  Fleming  isn't  going  to  the  Opera.  Mamma  said 
last  night  she  didn't  approve  of  governesses  being  brought 
out  of  their  place." 

Miss  Dash  wood  rewarded  this  infantine  outburst  first 
by  pinching  Miss  Natty's  ear  till  she  screamed,  then  by 
silencing  her  with  a  huge  lump  of  chocolate  (always  Miss 
Scott's  prime  object  of  adoration,)  and  pushing  her  out 
of  the  room.  "  How  I  pity  you,  Esther!  With  all  your 
good  qualities  having  to  train  that  imp.  If  I  was  in 
your  place  I  should  compromise  with  my  conscience  at 
once.  Dose  her  with  chocolate  till  sne  was  sick,  and 
never  attempt  to  coerce  her  or  teach  her  anything.  You 
are  conscientious ;  and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  at  the 
end  of  four  days  you  look  as  pale  and  harrassed  as  if  you 
had  bad  five  years  of  such  work.  It  will  do  you  good  to 
go  to-night,"  she  added,  kindly.  UI  have  already  settled 
with  Milly  that  we  are  to  accept." 

When  Esther  left  home  she  had  resolved  within  her- 
self to  accept  of  no  invitation,  to  partake  of  no  gaieties 
that  might  be  presented  to  her.  But  her  heart  did  cry 


358  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

out  too  strong  for  resistance  to  go  and  hear  this  opera  — 
to  run  this  chance  of  meeting  Paul.  She  longed,  she 
longed  passionately  to  see  him!  Her  new  life,  with  its 
round  of  cold  and  irksome  duties,  already  weighed  upon 
her.  It  was  not  possible  for  her  to  think  more  of  Mr. 
Chichester  here  than  she  had  done  at  home  —  wherever 
she  was,  was  he  ever  out  of  her  thoughts  ?  but  while  she 
thought  of  him  there  had  been  only  a  haunting  dream ; 
here,  amidst  strangers,  amidst  alien  and  repulsive  tasks,, 
it  amounted  almost  to  sharp  and  constant  pain.  And, 
besides  this,  she  knew  now  that  Oliver  did  not  love  — 
had  never  loved  her ;  and  that  knowledge  shook  her  in 
her  belief  of  all  men  —  above  all,  of  Paul.  If  she  could 
meet  him,  just  feel  the  pressure  of  his  hand,  just  feel  his 
eyes  upon  her,  once  more,  she  felt  that  it  must  still  some- 
thing of  the  restless  fever  in  her  heart :  not  for  one  second 
re-kindle  hope  :  she  regarded  Paul,  or  said  to  herself  that 
she  regarded  him,  as  bound  by  as  strong  a  tie  as  marriage, 
but  give  her  —  oh,  plausible  casuistry  ! — just  one  thing 
in  life  worth  living  for  —  the  feeling  that  he  remembered 
her,  that  he  regarded  her  still  with  somewhat  of  his  an- 
cient kindness. 

She  had  learnt  of  late  to  school  herself  sufficiently  to 
keep  down  the  blood  that  would  some  weeks  before  have 
leapt  into  her  face  at  the  mention  of  Paul's  name;  but 
she  at  once  professed  herself  to  be  strangely  anxious  to 
hear  the  "  Trovatore,"  and,  above  all,  to  hear  Giuglini  sing 
in  it ;  and  during  all  the  remainder  of  that  day  many 
and  biting  remarks  as  to  the  folly  of  persons  craving  after 
excitement  out  of  their  reach  were  dealt  out  to  her  by 
Mrs.  Scott. 

Milly  was  not,  I  think,  more  positively  bad -hearted  than 
other  women,  but  her  littleness  of  character  made  her  an 
essentially  cruel  task-mistress  to  any  person  who  chanced 
to  be  under  her  power.  There  are  Aspasias,  there  are 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         359 

Brinvilliers,  by  the  score,  who  are  generous  and*  faithful 
mistresses  to  their  own  dependents  ;  I  never  knew  a  wo- 
man of  the  viceless  virtuless  type  of  Millicent  Scott  who 
would  not  be  a  tyrant  where  she  could.  Natty,  for  very 
physical  fear,  she  durst  not,  her  husband  she  could  not, 
coerce :  Esther,  as  poor,  as  dependent,  as  intrinsically 
superior  to  herself  in  all  things,  seemed  to  Millicent's 
moral  sense  the  most  fitting  subject  in  the  world  for  house- 
hold subjection.  And  then  her  training  under  Mrs.  Dash- 
wood  enabled  her  to  do  this  kind  of  work  with  such  unc- 
tion !  with  so  strong  an  intermingling  of  principle  !  with 
so  much  virulence  !  with  so  many  tests  ! 

It  was  not  for  her  to  dictate ;  but  she  did  feel  it  her 
duty  to  advise.  A  woman  who,  like  Mrs.  Strangways, 
neglected  all  the  most  sacred  duties  of  life,  was  not,  in 
her  opinion,  a  fitting  chaperon  for  any  unknown,  unpro- 
tected young  woman.  Was  it  —  was  it  possible  that  Es- 
ther could  attend  to  her  next  day's  duties  ?  could  take 
dearest  little  Natty,  as  she,  Milly,  so  especially  desired,  to 
early  service,  if  the  quiet  routine  of  duty  were  once  bro- 
ken in  upon  by  irregular  hours  and  false  excitement  ? 

"  Milly,  much  as  I  love  her,  is  a  thorough  compound  of 
papa  and  of  Mrs.  Dash  wood,  too,"  said  Jane,  as  they  were 
driving  along  on  their  way  to  Mrs.  Strangways'  house. 
"  A  perfect  specimen  of  the  mingled  selfishness  and 
hypocrisy  which  our  education  so  studiously  sought  to 
foster  in  us.  Well  for  her  that  she  has  married  a  man 
who,  with  all  his  temper,  all  his  obtuseness,  doesn't  cant ! 
I  never  liked  Marmy  so  well  as  when  I  watched  his  face 
while  Millicent  was  improving  the  occasion  by  bullying 
you  at  dinner.  He  has,  at  least,  the  instincts  of  his  kind, 
I  suppose,  and  knows,  though  he  could  give  no  reason  for 
knowing,  that  you  will  be  good  to  the  brat." 

Esther  was  silent,  both  then  and  during  the  entire 
drive.  She  had  not  felt  —  she  had  scarcely  heard  —  one 


3GO  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

of  Mrs.  Scott's  strictures  upon  her  conduct.  She  was 
unconscious  of  Jane's  good-natured  efforts  to  take  away 
the  edge  of  their  bitterness.  All  thought,  all  feeling,  all 
consciousness,  was  absorbed  in  one  nervous  half-hope, 
half-sickening  dread  of  seeing  Paul ;  and  by  the  time  they 
were  ushered  into  Mrs.  Strangways'  drawing-room,  this 
feeling  had  increased  to  such  an  extent  that  she  was 
forced  to  take  Jane  Dash  wood's  arm  — she,  ordinarily  so 
calm  and  self-possessed —  and  cling  closely  to  it  for  sup- 
port. 

A  glance  round  the  room  told  her  that  Paul  was  not 
there,  and  her  heart  beat  free  again.  Mrs.  Strangways 
and  Miss  Lynes  were  sitting  alone,  their  coffee-cups  in 
their  hands,  and  evidently  enjoying  the  interchange  of 
familiar  thought  before  the  fire. 

"  So  good  of  you  to  come ! "  cried  Mrs.  Strangways,  as 
she  rose  and  advanced  with  both  hands  cordially  out- 
stretched. "Jane,  dear,"  and  then  an  interlude  of  kisses, 
"  I  havu't  seen  you  for  an  age !  Miss  Fleming,  I  am  so 
very  glad  to  renew  our  acquaintance.  You  remember 
Miss  Lynes,  do  you  not?  No?  then  let  me  introduce 
you  again.  Miss  Fleming,  Miss  Lynes." 

The  heiress  half  rose  from  her  chair,  and  slightly  un- 
closed her  eyelids  at  Esther,  extending  at  the  same  time 
a  cool  three  fingers  to  Jane.  Six  months  in  London  un- 
der Mrs.  Strangways'  care  —  for  they  now  lived  together, 
Miss  Lynes'  ample  means  greatly  benefiting  the  Strang- 
ways' manage  —  had  not  improved  this  young  person's 
tone.  She  was  beginning  to  see  what  money  really  is, 
not  only  among  a  limited  provincial  circle,  but  in  Lon- 
don. She  was  growing  accustomed  to  see  pretty  and 
high-born  women  neglected,  for  her  sake,  by  men  whose 
attentions  rich  and  pretty  and  high-born  were  alike  eager 
to  win  ;  and  the  effect  was  precisely  what  this  kind  of  in- 
fluence never  fails  to  bring  about  in  a  character  of  innate, 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    W1TES. 

mean  vulgarity.  She  gave  herself  airs ;  she  affected  to 
treat  with  coolness  women  into  whose  society  she  plumed 
herself  in  her  heart  at  being  admitted ;  she  played  fast 
and  loose  with  half  a  dozen  suitors,  Arthur  Peel  included, 
at  a  time ;  she  displayed  her  wealth  with  disgusting  os- 
tentation at  all  times  and  seasons ;  she  led  her  intimate 
friend,  Mrs.  Strangways,  a  life  which  really,  in  the  general 
summing  up  of  accounts,  ought  justly  to  be  put  against  a 
great  many  of  the  sins  and  shortcomings  of  that  imper- 
fect lady's  life. 

And  she  got  to  dress  worse  than  ever.  Have  you  not 
remarked  that  in  some  persons  bad  taste  is  cumulative  ? 
strengthening  with  years,  fed  and  kept  up  by  the  assist- 
ance of  first-class  tailors,  milliners,  and  all  other  appli- 
ances which  its  possessor  may  have  at  hand.  One  great 
feature  of  Miss  Lynes  was  that  she  rustled  so  prodigious- 
ly. Rising  up  now,  preparatory  to  putting  on  her  mag- 
nificent swans'-downed  opera-cloak,  there  was  a  sound  as 
of  the  whirling  of  autumn  leaves  from  many  forests. 
Surely  the  Lyons  fabricant  who  turned  out  that  resplen- 
dent inch-thick  yellow  silk  must  have  been  told  it  was 
for  an  English  heiress,  who  desired  that  the  world  should 
not  only  see  but  hear  the  outward  evidences  of  her  wealth. 
Mrs.  Strangways  smoothed  down  its  bristling  splendor 
with  a  loving  hand,  adjusted  the  heavy  burnous  carefully 
over  the  broad  shoulders,  and  then  took  a  glance  —  only 
one  furtive  glance  —  at  the  image  of  herself,  as  she  ap- 
peared standing  there  at  Miss  Lynes'  side. 

It  was  a  sufficiently  striking  contrast.  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways never  looked  better  than  in  the  dress  which  she  wore 
to-night  —  black  velvet.  Her  undulating  yellow  hair  was 
braided  back  plain  from  her  face,  leaving  only  a  profu- 
sion of  little  natural  curls,  or  rather  circlets  than  curls, 
upon  the  temples ;  a  diamond  tiara  was  placed  very  for- 
ward upon  her  forehead  ;  diamonds  set,  like  the  tiara,  com- 
16 


362  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

pletely  a  jour  quivered  upon  her  matchless  throat  and 
arms.  Looking  at  her  you  felt  that  Helen,  Cleopatra, 
Guinevere,  all  the  women  who  have  set  kings  and  king- 
doms in  arms  for  their  sake,  must  have  been  cast  in  some- 
what such  a  mould  as  this.  Dark  eyes  they  may  have 
possessed  ;  but  I  am  convinced  all  the  real  conquerors  of 
the  world — the  women  who  have  conquered  heroes  — 
must  have  had  the  same  luxuriant  masses  of  supple  wav 
ing  yellow  hair  —  hair  whose  slightest  touch  is  a  caress  ! 

Poor  Esther  remembered  strongly  at  this  moment  Paul 
having  once  told  her  that  his  admiration  was  for  fair 
women ;  and  her  heart  sank,  involuntarily,  as  she  looked 
at  Mrs.  Strangways'  superb  beauty,  and  remembered  that 
in  the  shadow  of  that  beauty  Paul  was  to  meet  her  again 
for  the  first  time.  Women  of  ordinary  looks,  or  possess- 
ed, liKe  Esther,  of  a  beauty  in  which  intellect  is  supreme, 
are  invariably  far  more  jealously  afraid  than  they  need  be 
of  the  mere  sensuous  loveliness  of  other  women.  They 
have  no  idea  —  how  should  they  have? — how  little  such 
loveliness  interferes  with  their  prerogative.  Let  a  wo- 
man like  Mrs.  Strangways  have  known  a  man  three  weeks 
without  enslaving  him,  and,  as  far  as  that  man  is  concern- 
ed, she  is  less  to  be  dreaded  than  half  the  little  quiet, 
plainish,  Jane  Eyre-like  women  whom  you  may  count 
among  your  friends.  Women  won't  believe  this:  they 
think  that  men,  yes,  even  their  own  husbands  and  lovers, 
must  always  be  ready  to  succumb,  heart  and  mind  and 
soul,  to  any  very  handsome  siren  who  chooses  to  exert 
her  power;  but  they  are  wrong.  The  same  beauty  does 
not  charm  all  senses ;  and  when,  by  some  hidden  want,  it 
fails  to  do  so,  it  is  oftentimes  all  but  repulsive,  I  mean  as 
regards  any  feeling  of  love. 

"  We  must  send  into  the  dining-room  for  Mr.  Peel,"  said 
Mrs.  Strangways,  as  she  consulted  the  time-piece.  "  Torn, 
of  course,  won't  go ;  he  never  will  go  anywhere  at  the 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  353 

last ;  but  it  would  not  be  fair  to  deprive  Miss  Fleming, 
who  has  never  heard  Giuglini,  of  any  of  the  opera."  And 
she  rang,  and  desired  the  servant  to  let  the  gentlemen 
know  that  the  carriage  was  already  waiting. 

"  And  where  is  Paul  ? "  asked  Jane,  bringing  in  his 
name  to  hide  the  blush  and  tremor  which  would  over- 
come her  still  whenever  she  expected  Arthur  Peel.  "  I 
thought  Paul  was  to  have  dined  with  you,  and  that  we 
should  all  go  together." 

"  Who  can  rely  upon  Mr.  Chichester  ?  "  answered  Mrs. 
Strangways,  with  a  careless  little  shrug  of  her  shoulders. 
"I,  for  one,  have  quite  ceased  ever  to  think  he  will  do 
any  one  thing  that  he  is  asked  to  do.  '  If  he  possibly 
can  get  away  from  his  other  engagements,  he  will  join 
us  at  the  Opera,'  he  wrote  me  word  this  morning ;  and  I 
suppose  with  that  vague  hope  we  must  all,"  and  she 
glanced  at  Esther,  "strive  to  be  content.  Mr.  Peel,"  as 
that  gentleman  entered  the  room,  "  how  good  of  you  to 
answer  my  summons  so  quickly  !  Tom  not  coming,  of 
course?  I  thought  not.  I  forget  whether  you  made 
Miss  Fleming's  acquaintance  in  Bath.  Mr.  Peel,  Miss 
Fleming." 

Arthur  shook  hands  with  Esther  and  with  Jane,  and 
then,  in  obedience  to  a  look  from  Mrs.  Strangways,  offer- 
ed his  arm  to  the  heiress.  As  Esther  followed  them  down 
the  stairs,  and  marked  the  pretty  imbecilities  which  Mr. 
Peel  whispered,  with  as  much  warmth  as  his  chronic 
state  of  boredom  would  allow,  into  Miss  Lynes'  ear  —  the 
tone  of  voice  in  which  Miss  Lynes  deprecated  his  flatter- 
ies by  such  remarks  as,  "  Oh,  la,  Mr.  Peel !  now,  how  can 
you  ?  You  silly  creature,  I  declare  I  won't  go  in  the 
same  carriage  with  you,  if  you  go  on  in  this  way  !  "  and 
the  like  —  as  she  marked  all  this,  it  occurred  to  her  very 
forcibly  that,  however  jealous  Arthur  Peel  might  be  of 
Lord  Feltham  — however  much  he  might  yet,  at  unseen 


364  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

times,  haunt  poor  Jane's  path  —  one  fixed  resolve  was  in 
his  heart  —  to  possess  the  fifty  thousand  pounds  of  Miss 
Lynes. 

And  she  knew  also  before  they  had  been  at  the  Opera 
half  an  hour,  that  Mrs.  Strangways  was  not  indifferent 
about  Paul  Chichester's  coming ;  that  Mrs.  Strangways 
was  dissatisfied,  though  the  box  was  beset  with  men  all 
eager  to  pay  her  attention  ;  that  her  eyes  glanced  quick- 
ly towards  the  door  whenever  it  opened,  and  then  sought 
to  read  upon  her,  Esther  Fleming's  face,  some  signs  of  the 
same  feeling  which  disturbed  her  own  peace. 

[What  intuitive  faculty — oftentimes  corrector  in  its 
results  than  any  effort  of  reason  —  is  it  that  makes  un- 
taught people  guess  so  near  the  truth  when  they  have  to 
judge  of  things  and  persons  essentially  artificial  ?  No 
one  could  be  stronger  than  Jane  Dash  wood  at  improving 
upon  slight  suspicions,  supplying  small  links  when  they 
were  wanted  to  hasten  the  fall  of  a  suspected  person's 
good  name,  and  such  work.  And  yet,  with  all  her  quick- 
ness, Jane  Dashwood  was  as  often  wrong  as  right  in  her 
judgments  upon  the  most  ordinary  motives,  the  most  ordi- 
nary emotions,  of  her  compeers ;  while  Miss  Fleming  (who 
knew  no  more  of  the  world  of  such  people  as  these  than 
De  Voltaire's  "  Ingenu  "  knew  of  the  world  of  the  Pere  de 
la  Chaise  and  of  Monseigneur  de  St.  Pouange)  —  Miss 
Fleming  saw  clearly,  after  half  an  hour's-  quiet  watchful- 
ness what  every  one  of  her  companions  was  driving  at ! 
Perhaps  an  illustration  may  serve  as  an  answer.  If  you 
go,  on  a  pure  winter's  day,  into  the  sitting-room  of  an  or- 
dinary German  habitation,  crowded  with  men  and  women, 
you  are  sensible,  at  first,  not  of  impending  asphyxia  alone, 
but  of  all  the  distinct  abominations  —  the  tobacco-smoke, 
the  baked  air,  the  garlic,  the  humanity  —  which  goto  make 
up  that  most  unclean  atmosphere.  In  an  hour's  time  —  if 
you  once  overcome  your  nature  and  stay  —  you  not  only 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES. 

breathe  the  vitiated  air  like  the  rest,  but  are  unconscious 
of  your  own  diminished  vitality :  all  the  sharp  recoil  of 
disgust,  all  the  fine  discrimination  of  an  hour  ago  gone  : 
you  are  one  of  them.  But  I  only  throw  out  the  illustra- 
tion. I  don't  moralize.] 

As  time  went  on,  however,  as  she  felt  that  the  moment 
drew  near  in  which  she  and  Paul  should  meet,  all  recol- 
lections of  the  people  she  was  playing  a  part  amongst, 
all  outward  perceptions  even  of  that  crowded  house  and 
of  the  mock,  or  stage  actors,  became  blank  to  Esther. 
Since  they  parted,  nearly  a  year  ago,  she  had  so  incessant- 
ly brooded  over  Paul,  and  over  her  own  love  for  him,  and 
over  her  vague  hopes,  and  her  distinct  despair  —  she  had 
so  overlaid  reality  with  dreams,  as  scarcely  to  remember,  at 
last,  the  manner  of  their  parting  —  the  footing  upon  which, 
in  actual  truth,  they  stood  to  each  other.  But  now  every 
word  of  that  last  twilight  interview  returned  unbidden 
upon  her  mind  ;  and  above  all,  and  with  cruel  clearness, 
did  she  remember  that  she  had  all  but  offered  to  give  up 
her  life  to  him  if  he  would  accept  it,  and  that  he  had  not 
—  he  had  not  accepted  it ;  he  had  parted  from  her 
coldly.  She  felt  again  the  old  desolation  close  upon  her, 
as  she  watched  his  figure  fade  in  the  distant  street ;  felt 
again  the  passionate  anguish  with  which  she  had  prayed 
God  that  night  to  pardon  her,  as  she  swore  while  she  liv- 
ed &at  she  would  be  true  to  Paul  and  to  her  new  faith. 

And  so  much  misery  — a  year  of  never-ceasing  suffer- 
ing— just  because  Mr.  Chichester  had  chosen  to  amuse 
himself  by  making  her  a  half  declaration  at  parting —  a 
declaration  which  meant  nothing  at  the  time,  and  which 
he  had  probably  never  taken  the  trouble  to  remember 
since  !  She  had  just  repeated  some  such  form  as  this  ; 
involuntarily  putting  it  into  words,  as  people  do  when, 
by  mechanical  process,  they  think  to  overcome  unwelcome 
emotion,  when  the  door  of  the  box  opened  quietly,  and 
Paul  Chichester  took  the  vacant  place  close  beside  her. 


366  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Mrs.,.  Strangways  looked  round,  and  her  face  alone 
would  have  told  Esther  who  it  was  that  arrived ;  but  she 
knew  it  already.  Why  do  none  of  the  persons  who  con- 
cern themselves  about  communication  with  the  spiritual 
world  seize  hold  upon  and  make  much  of  this  wonderful 
prescience  by  which  human  beings  in  love  become  cog- 
nizant of  each  other's  presence  ?  To  have  messages  from 
departed  friends  written  in  large  letters  and  doubtful 
grammar  upon  one's  arm,  is  an  experience  that  only  falls 
to  the  few.  All  men  or  women  who  have  loved  can  look 
back  upon  a  time  when,  without  hearing,  or  seeing,  or 
knowing,  they  felt  the  presence  of  the  person  loved, 
whether  that  presence  entered  into  church,  ball-room, 
theatre,  synagogue,  or  any  other  building. 

Is  the  affinity  of  the  spirit  or  of  the  flesh  ?  I  don't  know 
in  the  least ;  I  know  that  it  exists,  and  Esther  Fleming  knew 
it,  too ;  and  in  the  wild  thrill  of  her  pulse,  the  sudden  tight- 
ening of  her  breath  that  it  occasioned,  quite  forgot  that  it 
was  her  duty  to  look  round  and  bid  Paul  welcome,  and 
hide,  by  a  cool,  unconscious  manner,  all  these  ridiculous 
tumults  which  it  is  so  utterly  indecent  for  young  women 
living  in  the  world  to  feel. 

So  Paul  Chichester  leant  over  her,  and  spoke  first. 
"  You  are  too  absorbed  in  Giuglini  to  take  any  notice  of 
me,  Miss  Fleming  ?  " 

"  Giuglini  —  I  have  not  been  listening  to  him,"  and  then 
she  turned  and  gave  Paul  all  the  glowing  delight  of  her 
honest  face.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Chichester,  I  am  so  glad  to  see 
you  again ! " 

Their  hands,  their  eyes  met :  and  the  curtain  rose  upon 
precisely  the  same  scene  of  the  great  tragedy,  love,  where- 
on it  had  fallen  twelve  months  before. 

"  You  told  me  then  you  would  never  see  me  again," 
said  Esther,  "  and  you  were  wrong.  I  knew  it  at  the 
time." 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  357 

"And  what  has  made  me  wrong?"  Paul  whispered. 
"  How  is  it  that  you  are  here,  and  alone  ?  " 

"I  have  come  to  live  with  Millicent,  as  governess  to 
Mr.  Scott's  little  daughter,"  answered  Esther,  demurely. 

"  Of  course.  I  have  heard  that  already  ;  but  my  ques- 
tion is  not  answered.  How  is  it  that  you  are  away  from 
home,  and  yet  alone?  " 

"  Because  all,  all  that  I  spoke  to  you  about  once  is  over. 
Don't  you  remember  I  told  you  when  I  saw  you  last  that 
it  should  be  over  ?  It  had  no  real  life  in  it  from  the  first^ 
Mr.  Chichester,  and  it  was  a  happy  thing  for  both  of  us 
when  it  died  outright.  The  —  the  other  person  is  going 
to  marry  some  one  far  better  suited  to  him  than  I  could 
ever  have  been,  and  I  —  " 

"And  you  ?  "  said  Paul  in  an  eager  whisper  that  made 
the  blood  start,  whether  she  willed  it  or  no,  to  her  face. 

"  I  am  free,  Mr.  Chichester,  free  and  alone,  as  I  intend 
to  remain  during  the  remainder  of  my  life." 

"Oh!"  And  then  there  was  along  silence.  One  of 
those  silences  which,  placed  as  they  were,  and  with  music 
stirring  the  pulses,  and  with  the  perfect  solitude  of  a 
crowded  assemblage  all  conspiring  to  assist,  will  go  fur- 
ther, as  you  know,  towards  maturing  love  into  passion 
than  any  number  of  words  that  the  most  eloquent  human 
tongue  could  compress  into  a  similar  space  of  time. 

"  When  do  you  go  out  ?  "  said  Paul,  at  length,  with  no 
particular  relevance,  as  it  seemed,  either  to  the  opera  or 
the  rupturing  of  Esther's  engagement.  "  I  mean  where, 
and  .at  what  hour,  do  you  take  the  young  Scott  out  to 
walk  ?  " 

"  I  take  the  young  Scott  in  the  Square  from  twelve 
till  one  on  fine  days,"  answered  Esther.  "  That  is,  if 
Milly  has  nothing  else  for  me  to  do.  The  child  gets  her 
afternoon  walk  with  the  nursemaid." 

"  And  is  that  all  of  the  open  air  that  you  are  to  have 
every  day?-" 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"I  suppose  so,  but  it  is  quite  enough.  I  don't  care  in 
the  least  for  walking  in  these  dull  London  streets." 

"  What  made  you  come,  then  ?" 

"Mr.  Chichester!',' 

"What  made  you  leave  your  wholesome  country  home 
and  come  to  London  ?  You  had  better  have  stayed  where 
you  were." 

"I  don't  think  so.  The  Dash  woods  told  you,  I  dare 
say,  that  Mrs.  Tudor  left  me  nothing  when  she  died.  My 
friends  in  Devonshire  are  too  poor  for  me  to  burthen  them 
always.  If  I  would  live  I  must  work  —  and  I  like  work," 
she  added,  with  a  quick  instinct  of  pride. 

"  Then  why  not  work  in  the  country  ?  It  would  have 
been  far  better  for  you." 

She  hesitated  :  she  looked  down. 

"  I  heard  of  no  one  who  wanted  me  in  the  country.  I 
wrote  to  the  Dash  woods  —  I  mean,  I  mean  —  I  wished  to 
come  to  London." 

Paul  scrutinized  her  narrowly.  Lit  up  by  the  first 
flush  of  meeting,  he  had  not  noticed  how  much  her  face 
had  changed  during  the  last  year.  He  saw  it  plainly 
now.  Her  cheeks  were  paler ;  the  expression  of  her 
mouth  was  more  sad;  her  eyes  looked  at  you  with  the 
look  of  a  woman's  eyes,  not  a  child's.  What  had  changed 
her  ?  What  feeling  but  one  ever  suddenly  initiates  a 
girl  of  nineteen  into  the  maturity  of  life  and  of  suffer- 
ing? 

"You  were  quite  wrong  in  wishing  to  come  to  London, 
Miss  Fleming.  All  children,  and  indeed  young  people 
generally,  imagine  they  have  a  longing  for  great  cities, 
and  what  do  they  gain  when  they  corne  ?  What  do  they 
gain, and  how  much  do  they  lose?  However,"  he  added, 
-and,  I  must  confess,  a  good  deal  in  answer  to  the  wistful 
disappointment  of  her  eyes,  "  I  must  not  complain  of 
your  resolution,  however  much  I  may  think  that  the 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  369 

country  would  be  best  for  yourself.  I  hope,  now  that  we 
live  within  a  few  miles  of  each  other  again,  I  shall  be 
allowed  sometimes  to  come  and  see  you  as  I  used  in 
Bath  ?  " 

After  which  remark,  as  Esther  vouchsafed  no  answer, 
they  steadily  gave  their  attention  to  the  last  act  of  "II 
Trovatore  ;  "  while  one  of  them,  at  least,  began  to  realize 
how  marvellously  like  heaven  sitting  at  the  back  of  a 
crowded  opera-box  and  listening  to  Giuglini's  singing 
can  be. 

"Non  ti  scordar  di  me,"  Paul  whispered,  as  he  put  on 
Miss  Fleming's  cloak  for  her  when  the  opera  was  over. 
And  then  she  felt  that  she  had  an  actual  tangible  happi- 
ness —  something  which,  whatever  the  future  might  bring, 
was  yet  hers  inalienably  —  to  cling  to  until  she  should  see 
him  again. 

One  of  the  most  pathetic  things  about  a  hopeless  or 
forbidden  passion  is  the  foreboding  with  which  it  constant- 
ly looks  onward,  and,  as  it  were,  forearms  itself  against 
the  coming  dark  hour.  Don't  you  remember  the  sonnet 
in  which  the  mighty  hand  that  touched  every  remotest 
spring  of  human  love  and  human  suffering  paints  this 
very  phase  of  which  I  try  to  speak  in  dull  and  blunder- 
ing words  — 

"  Against  that  time,  if  ever  that  time  come, 
When  I  shall  see  thee  frown  on  my 'defects." 

Happy  love,  tending  calmly  onward  to  its  earthly  end, 
knows  nothing  of  this  foreboding,  this  haunting  prophetic 
shadow  of  the  time  —  when  all  shall  be  over!  And  still 
the  law  of  compensation  is  unerring.  Happy  love,  from 
its  first  dawn  to  its  fruition,  knows  no  such  moments  as 
one  of  these  self-torturing,  utterly  hopeless  passions  can 
yield. 

If  Esther  had  been  engaged  to  Paul  Chich ester  do  you 
16* 


370  THE  ORDEAL   FOR    WIVES. 

think  that  careless  whisper  of  his  would  have  occasioned 
her  such  wild'  rapture,  or  indeed  any  rapture  at  all  ?  Of 
course  not.  It  would  have  been  common  love-making. 

And  common  love-making  is  not  a  rapturous  employ- 
ment. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

DIAMONDS     WTN. 

MRS.  STRANGWAYS'  supper  was  a  success.  The  women 
were  all  young,  or  fast,  or  pretty  ;  most  of  them  all  three ; 
the  champagne  was  undeniable ;  Mr.  Strangways  had 
gone  to  bed.  It  was  a  success.  Did  any  of  the  men 
and  women  who  assisted  at  it  enjoy  themselves  ? 

Three,  at  least,  did  not.  Mrs.  Strangways,  who,  how- 
ever well  other  successes  were  working,  could  never 
quite  get  over  the  old  pain  when  Paul  was  present ;  Jane 
Dashwood,  who  was  quite  away  from  Arthur  Peel  the  en- 
tire evening ;  and,  lastly,  Arthur  Peel  himself.  He  took 
Miss  Lynes  to  supper ;  he  outshone  himself  in  vacuitous 
small-talk  during  the  whole  time  that  the  meal  lasted ; 
he  held  undisputed  possession  of  her  during  that  hour  es- 
pecially dear  to  flirtation,  between  the  time  when  supper 
ended  and  the  departure  of  the  guests.  And  still  Arthur 
Peel's  spirit  was  disquieted  within  him,  and  his  heart  sore. 

The  real,  stern  part  of  any  duty  commences  with  the 
first  positive  sacrifice  it  demands;  not  in  the  making  up 
of  one's  mind  to  perform  it.  Arthur  Peel  had  determin- 
ed, months  ago,  to  give  up  Jane  Dashwood  and  to  mar- 
ry Miss  Lynes ;  but,  somehow,  the  enormity  of  the  act 
had  always  hitherto  been  brought  before  him  in  a  modifi- 
ed and  softened  light.  Miss  Lynes  had  had  other  atten- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         371 

tions  on,  and  that  had  relieved  him  from  a  great  deal  of 
heavy  work  ;  and  Jane  especially  since  her  engagement, 
had  been  always  ready  to  smile  upon  him  the  moment  he 
quitted  the  odious  side  of  the  heiress ;  and  Mrs.  Strang- 
ways, too,  had  employed  all  her  finished  art  to  prevent 
him  feeling  overmuch  the  oppressive  weight  of  Miss 
Lynes'  preference. 

But  to-night  he  felt  that  fate  was  dead  in  his  favor,  and, 
as  I  have  said,  his  spirit  was  disquieted  within  him.  Jane 
had  answered  him  only  by  curt  monosyllables  at  the 
Opera,  and  flirted  outrageously  the  whole  of  the  rest  of 
the  night  with  his  greatest  friend,  little  Tregelly  of  the 
Blues.  Mrs.  Strangways  had  either  looked,  or  pretended 
to  look,  upon  his  engagement  with  Miss  Lynes  as  an  ac- 
complished fact,  and  never  came  near  them  or  gave  him 
assistance  in  any  way.  The  heiress  herself,  wrought  up- 
on by  Giuglini's  voice  or  Mr.  Strangways'  champagne,  or 
both  —  que  sais-je  f  —  the  heiress  gave  him  very  plainly 
to  understand  that  she  had  had  quite  enough  of  the  pres- 
ent unsatisfactory  state  of  affairs,  and  that  unless  he 
could  make  up  his  mind  she  would  make  up  hers,  and  give 
the  next  man  on  her  list,  old  Morty  Delamaine,  the  bene- 
fit of  the  doubt  to-morrow  morning. 

Now  Arthur  Peel  meant  devoutly  that  he,  not  Morty 
Delamaine,  should  marry  Miss  Lynes  ;  and  so  of  course 
the  moment  he  clearly  saw  what  she  meant  him  to  do  he 
did  it.  Did  he  wish  her  to  refuse  him  ?  Great  heaven  ! 
how  could  he  ?  when  honor,  name,  everything  that  men, 
even  the  weakest,  the  most  lost,  crave  after  was  to  be  built 
up  for  him  by  her  money  !  He  fervently  wished  that  she 
would  accept  him,  marry  him,  at  once ;  but  when  the 
words  that  sealed  his  fate  came  (she  had  just  taken  a 
huge  mouthful  of  chicken  salad  and  turned  her  great 
white  face  with  a  look  of  disgusting,  amative  exultation 
full  round  on  his)  his  heart,  little  emotional  as  he  was, 


372  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

seemed  to  get  cold  and  heavy  as  stone.  This  large  lump 
of  eating  and  drinking,  and  far  worse,  loving  humanity  was 
his:  his,  however  he  might  hate  her,  however  he  might 
neglect  her.  His  !  And  opposite  sat  Jane,  the  only  wo- 
man for  whom  he  had  ever  known  or  could  know  any- 
thing approaching  to  love,  looking  handsomer,  of  course, 
than  he  had  ever  seen  her  ;  soft,  gentle,  yet  full  of  animated 
life  ;  and  engaged  to  Lord  Feltham,  and  flirting  desper- 
ately —  oh,  desperately,  because  so  quietly !  with  little 
Tregelly,  and  evidently  not  caring  one  jot  whether  he  was 
making  Miss  Lynes  a  passionate  last  appeal  or  merely  im- 
ploring her  not  to  make  herself  sick  upon  chicken  salad. 

Arthur  Peel  was  not  sentimental,  neither  did  he  possess 
any  greater  amount  of  fine  feeling  than  is  ordinarily  to  be 
met  with  among  young  gentlemen  living  the  life  that  he 
led ;  but  as  much  acute  suffering,  as  much  mental  disturb- 
ance as  his  not  largely-endowed  nature  could  sustain  was 
his  portion  that  night.  If  the  heiress  had  been  only  four 
or  five  degrees  less  obtuse,  or  had  taken  only  four  or  five 
fewer  glasses  of  champagne,  she  must  have  seen  how  large 
a  portion  of  the  love-making  fell  to  her  share ;  how  ab- 
sent were  the  replies  of  her  beloved  in  these  first  rosy 
moments  of  legitimate  endearment ;  how  resolutely,  fierce- 
ly fixed  were  his  eyes,  not  upon  her,  but  upon  Jane  Dash- 
wood's  face. 

But,  happily  for  her  own  peace,  when  you  consider  the 
kind  of  life  she  was  about  to  purchase  for  herself,  Miss 
Lynes  was  now,  as  at  all  times,  stoutly  cased  in  the  triple 
armor  of  unrefinement  and  supreme  egotism.  Arthur 
Peel  had  offered  to  her,  and  she  had  agreed  to  accept 
him.  How  awfully  delighted  he  must  be,  and  how  un- 
worldly she  was  to  take  a  man  without  a  farthing  because 
she  had  a  fancy  for  him  !  and  how  good  it  would  be  to 
see  Jane  Dashwood's  face  when  she  should  invite  her  to 
be  her  bridesmaid ;  and  what  lovely  teeth  Mr.  Peel  ha.d 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        373 

when  you  caught  glimpses  of  them  and  of  his  beautiful 
red  lips  beneath  that  .sweet,  silky  moustache  !  These,  I 
think,  were  the  prominent  ideas  or  emotions  that  passed 
through  the  bride-elect's  mind  ;  and  by  the  time  supper 
was  ended,  and  she  was  pressing  Arthur  Peel's  arm  as  he 
escorted  her  to  the  drawing-room,  her  convictions  were 
settled  as  to  his  being  the  most  ardent,  most  demonstra- 
tive lover  in  the  world. 

Reader,  if  you  are  intimate  with  any  woman  of  Mrs. 
Strangways' type,  don't  you  know —  and  knowing,  you 
must  appreciate — the  peculiar,  indescribable  atmosphere 
of  her  small  sans  f aeon  parties  ?  No  uncongenial  element 
enters  into  them.  There  are  no  chaperons,  rarely  any 
married  men.  You  have  never,  by  any  chance  whatever, 
any  music  to  listen  to,  or  cards  to  play,  or  dancing  to  do. 
You  are  never  bored.  You  always  stop 'late.  Men  who 
would  go  to  no  other  evening  party  in  London  would  go 
to  Mrs.  Strangways',  and  go  a  second  and  a  third  time. 
Men  hard  as  flint  during  the  last  ten  years  of  their  lives, 
men  who  would  neither  marry  nor  flirt,  nor  compromise 
themselves  in  any  other  way  whatever,  had  been  known 
to  become  as  wax  in  the  hands  of  herself  and  of  her  staft 
on  these  occasions. 

To-night  the  spell  was  at  its  culminating  point. 
Whether  some  hearts  were  heavy  or  gay,  one  out  of 
every  duo  dispersed  about  the  dim  recesses  of  those  two 
little  dangerous  drawing-rooms  meant  something  ; —  and 
think  what  an  enormous  proportion  this  is  in  a  game 
wherein  both  sides  are  never  equally  earnest,  and  where, 
in  the  vast  majority  of  cases,  neither  is  one  whit  so  !  Lit- 
tle Tregelly  told  Jane  Dashwood,  definitely,  at  twenty 
minutes  past  one  A.M.  that  he  would  hold  himself  respon- 
sible for  the  consequences  if  she  would  break  off  her  en- 
gagement—  Tregelly,  who  until  this  moment  had  never 
approached  within  a  hundred  miles  of  love  with  any  un 


374  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

married  or  marriageable  woman  before  !  Miss  Lynes,  as 
you  have  seen,  had  obtained  fast  and  irrevocable  hold 
upon  Arthur  Peel ;  and  Paul  Chichester  —  well,  in  spite 
of  principle,  of  fixed  resolve,  of  mere  common  sense  and 
common  honor,  Paul,  with  every  word  he  uttered,  was 
giving  poisonous,  cruel  sustenance  to  that  dream  which  the 
unconcealed  happiness  of  poor  Esther's  face  but  too  plain- 
ly betrayed  to  him. 

"You,  at  least,  have  enjoyed  yourself,"  whispered  Jane 
Dashwood,  as  they  prepared  to  depart ;  and,  as  she  spoke, 
she  laid  her  little  stone-cold  hand  upon  her  friend's.  "  As 
I  sat  listening  to  all  the  nonsense  that  empty  fool  chose 
to  talk  to  me  I  looked  at  your  face  and  envied  you  —  en- 
vied you  the  power  of  believing  as  you  believe  Paul's 
fine  false  words  now  !  Esther,  stand  by  me,"  she  added, 
quickly,  and  with  a  ghastly  attempt  at  a  smile.  "  Here 
comes  Mrs.  Strangways ;  and  I  know  the  expression  of 
her  face.  My  hour  is  come.  Arthur  is  gone !  " 

When  was  a  woman's  instinct  ever  wrong  in  such  a 
matter  ?  Mrs.  Strangways  swept  up  to  their  side  with 
her  noiseless  step,  drew  Jane's  cloak  closer,  with  her  own 
hand,  across  the  miserable,  passionately-throbbing  breast, 
hoped  they  had  enjoyed  themselves,  hoped  they  would 
soon  accompany  her  to  the  Opera  again,  and  then  stooped 
and  whispered  a  word  in  Miss  Dash  wood's  ear. 

"  You  look  surprised,"  she  remarked,  as,  notwithstand- 
ing her  own  forewarning,  notwithstanding  training,  not- 
withstanding pride,  the  color  ebbed  back  out  of  Jane's 
face  in  this  bitterest  moment  of  defeat ;  "  and  yet  every- 
body must  have  seen  what  was  coming.  I  have  looked 
upon  it  as  settled  for  so  long  that  when  Augusta  whis- 
pered the  news  to  me  just  now  I  had  really  no  fresh  con- 
gratulations to  offer.  Miss  Fleming,"  and  she  turned  to 
Esther,  "  I  don't  know  why  we  should  make  this  any  se- 
cret from  you.  Mr.  Peel  is  to  marry  Augusta  Lynes," 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  375 

"  Esther  isn't  likely  to  take  any  interest  in  other  peo- 
ple's love-affairs  to-night,"  cried  Jane  ;  and  steady  though 
her  voice  was  you  could  detect  quite  a  hard,  unnatural 
ring  in  it.  "  Really  the  way  in  which  my  old  friends  are 
forsaking  me  is  fearful.  Even  though  one  is  engaged  it 
is  not  a  pleasant  feeling,  is  it,  Mrs.  Strangways,  to  see  the 
old  worshippers  kneeling  at  new  shrines  ?  I  never 
thought  Paul's  manner  could  be  full  of  tenderness  and 
petits  soins  as  it  has  been  to-night ;  but  then  Miss  Fleming 
is  the  first  woman  —  except  myself — whom  I  have  ever 
seen  Paul  Chichester  in  the  least  admire.  Thank  you  for 
your  chaperonage  and  pleasant  party,  clear ;  and  good- 
night." 

Arid  then  they  kissed. 

"But  for  the  last  time  —  the  last  time  !  "  cried  Jane, 
m  her  paroxysm  of  childish  misery,  as  they  were  driving 
home.  "I  kept  up  the  farce  to  the  last  because  I  would 
give  her  no  additional  pleasure  in  her  hour  of  hateful 
triumph  ;  but  wait  till  I  have  had  my  last  interview  with 
Arthur  —  wait  till  I  have  met  with  Arthur  Peel  once 
more,  and  you  will  see  what  terms  I  mean  to  stand  upon 
with  them  all." 

"  And  I'll  write  to  Lord  Feltham  !  "  —  this  burst  out  a 
moment  or  two  later  —  "  I'll  tell  him  to  come  home,  and 
I'll  marry  him  —  yes,  before  they  are  married  ;  and  I'll 
set  about  getting  my  trousseau  ready  to-morrow  after- 
noon, after  I  have  seen  Arthur.  I'm  not  going  to  break 
my  heart:  don't  pity  me,  Esther  —  don't  pity  me!  I 
shall  marry  Lord  Feltham,  and  be  among  a  set  of  people 
to  whom  all  Miss  Lynes'  money  will  never  admit  Mr. 
Peel;  and  it  will  be  best  so.  Esther,  he  hates  her.  I 
should  go  mad  if  I  didn't  know  that.  He  hates,  he  loathes 
her,  and  takes  her  so,  contemptible  wretch  as  he  is  !  loath- 
ing and  all,  for  the  sake  of  her  money.  Great  heaven! 
what  men  are,  that  one  should  go  so  nigh  to  breaking 
one's  heart  for  any  of  their  falsehoods  ! " 


376  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

When  they  got  home  Jane's  mood  had  cooled,  and  she 
said  all  she  wanted  was  to  be  alone  and  to  sleep.  But 
right  through  that  night,  yes,  till  the  next  cold  winter's 
day  had  dawned,  Esther  heard  the  sound  of  Miss  Dash- 
wood's  restless  footsteps  pacing  up  and  down  the  room 
above  her  head. 

And  as  she  listened  it  was  borne  in  upon  her  with  re- 
markable distinctness  to  feel  if  one  so  fickle  could  suffer 
thus,  what  she,  with  all  her  larger  capabilities  for  misery, 
would  have  to  go  through  when  her  hour  of  awakening 
should  likewise  come ! 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

A  HOLOCAUST. 

MR.  ARTHUR  PEEL'S  face,  as  he  sat  alone  at  breakfast 
on  the  morning  after  Mrs.  Strangways'  party,  was  a  com- 
plete unwritten  sermon  upon  the  vanity  of  all  human  de- 
sires. 

He  had  lived,  he  had  worked  for  one  sole  object  during 
the  last  twelve  or  eighteen  months  —  the  attainment  of 
Miss  Lynes'  money:  and  this  was  the  hour  of  fruition  — 
he  had  won  it.  Position,  ease,  honor  from  henceforth,  in 
stead  of  the  career  of  shame  and  —  what  probably  to  him 
was  worse — of  absolute  privation,  into  which  he  must 
have  followed  his  brother's  footsteps,  in  a  very  few  more 
months,  had  the  present  Golconda  turned  out  barren  to 
him.  He  had  won.  His  path  was  to  be  from  henceforth 
among  the  promised  places  of  the  earth :  and  lo !  all 
seemed  suddenly  the  vanity  of  vanities  to  him  ;  and  his 
Chateau  Lafitte  was  bitter  to  his  taste ;  his  Cabana  un- 
soothing ;  the  contemplation  of  his  own  face  in  the  mir- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  377 

ror  before  him  unflattering.  Chateau  Lafitte,  Cabana, 
image  of  Arthur  Peel's  well-cut  features  —  Miss  Lynes' 
image  mingled  with,  and  spoilt  them  all ! 

Nature  will  assert  herself  occasionally  even  in  the  case 
of  the  most  artificial  dandy  extant ;  and  when  she  does 
do  so,  and  a  man,  young  and  physically  strong  still,  is  on 
the  eve  of  selling  his  own  body  and  soul  for  money,  his 
feelings,  I  can  assure  you,  are  about  the  bitterest  and  the 
most  self-abasing  of  which  human  nature  is  capable.  A 
girl  sells  herself  and  nature  —  id  est,  her  weakness,  her 
helplessness,  her  necessity  for  another's  support,  cry  out 
and  absolve  her,  somewhat,  to  her  own  heart.  A  man 
sells  himself,  and  all  that  belongs  to  manhood  within  him 
cries  shame  upon  the  barter !  With  hands,  with  shoul- 
ders to  work  as  a  free  man,  he  submits,  voluntarily,  to  the 
position  of  a  well-fed  slave  for  life  —  a  slave,  too,  often- 
times, to  the  crudest,  the  meanest,  the  most  pitiless  of  all 
slaveholders  —  a  woman  without  true  generosity  of  soul 
herself,  and  with  secret,  jealous  knowledge  of  the  reasons 
for  which  her  victim  married  her  in  her  heart. 

And  in  Arthur  Peel's  case  all  natural,  instinctive  dis- 
gust at  the  part  he  had  pledged  himself  to  play,  was 
heightened  tenfold  by  the  bitter,  haunting  knowledge  of 
Jane  Dash  wood's  face,  of  her  flashing  eyes,  her  curling 
lips,  as  he  had  last  seen  them  the  night  before.  In  a 
niche,  apart  from  the  large-eyed  Parisian  graces  and 
impossibly-posed  dancers  which  filled  Mr.  Peel's  room, 
hung  a  simple  little  portrait,  in  crayons,  of  a  girl's  head  — 
Jane  Dashwood  at  seventeen.  The  eyes,  the  lips  seemed 
smiling  on  him  with  the  expression  of  those  first  days  in 
which  Jane  ever  loved  him  in  mocking  contrast  to  the 
eyes  and  lips  that  had  scorned  him  twelve  hours  before ; 
in  horrible  contrast  to  those  other  eyes  and  lips  that  now 
were  his  —  his  own  legitimate,  dearly-bought  property, 
until  death,  a  chance  too  remote  even  to  hope  for,  should 
take  them  from  him. 


378  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  I  shall  get  used  to  it  —  I  shall  get  used  to  it  all !  " 
was  the  sole  form  of  consolation  that  reiterated  itself 
through  the  limited  arena  of  Mr.  Peel's  brain.  "  A  fellow 
doesn't  know,  in  six  months,  whether  his  wife's  handsome 
or  ugly ;  and  I  shall  meet  Jane  when  she's  married  to 

Feltham,  d him!  and  she'll  be  sure  to  flirt  like  beans ; 

and  perhaps  she'd  have  done  the  same  if  she'd  married  me, 
and  one  gets  used  to  everything;  and  a  fellow  doesn't 
know  in  six  months  whether  his  wife  is  handsome  or  ugly, 

d her  ! "  And  then  the  eyes  looked  down  on  him 

from  that  girlish  face  upon  the  wall,  and  the  clock  above 
the  chimney-piece  struck  one ;  and  he  remembered  that 
at  three  o'clock  he  was  to  be  at  Mrs.  Strangways'  house, 
ready  to  undergo  all  the  privileges  of  an  engaged  man  in 
his  first  tete-a-tete  interview  with  his  betrothed. 

The  sudden  realization  of  this  last  immediate  duty  dis- 
gusted him  more  than  all  former  vague,  intangible  pros- 
pects had  done.  Would  Miss  Lynes'  eyes  assume  the 
same  affectionate  expression  which,  under  the  influence  of 
champagne,  they  had  done  the  night  before  ?  Would  it  — 
great  heavens  !  would  it  be  expected  of  him  to  be  ardent  ? 
He  could  kiss  her,  he  thought,  when  he  went  and  when 
he  came  away,  pretty  easily ;  but  heavy  love-making,  for 
two  or  three  hours !  —  love-making  that  would  at  all 
come  up  to  the  demand  which  the  expression  of  her  face 
seemed  to  foretoken !  And  then,  if  he  didn't  do  every- 
thing that  was  expected  of  him,  the  chance  of  losing  her ! 
You  are  never  sure  of  an  heiress  until  your  back  is  turned 
upon  the  altar  of  St.  George's  ;  and  old  Morty  was  obvi- 
ously only  too  ready  to  be  brought  on  at  a  moment's  no- 
tice ;  and  no  doubt  he  would  be  able  to  get  up  any 
amount  of  passion  that  would  be  required  of  him. 

Mr.  Peel's  mind  was  not  accustomed  to  any  very  great 
influx  of  ideas  at  any  time;  and  really  the  amount  of 
thinking  —  and  all  unpleasant  thinking  —  that  he  went 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  379 

through  during  this  forenoon,  quite  overcame  him.  He 
had  risen  very  early  in  the  morning,  between  nine  and  ten, 
I  believe  —  as  the  fatuity  of  our  nature  generally  makes 
men  do  on  the  first  day,  from  whence  life  is  to  be  more 
disagreeable  to  them  than  before  — had  arisen  early;  had 
smoked  five  cigars ;  had  taken  his  brandy-and-soda ;  had 
looked  at  his  breakfast ;  had  drunk  his  Lafitte  ;  and  now, 
at  one  o'clock,  felt  as  though  about  a  month  of  ordinary 
life  had  elapsed  since  he  rose  from  his  bed. 

"  It's  thinking  so  much,"  he  decided  at  last,  with  one 
of  those  incisive  intuitions  which  we  are  accustomed  to 
regard  as  the  exclusive  property  of  genius.  "  Nothing 
bores  a  fellow's  head  like  thinking ;  and  there's  no  good 
in  it  either,  for  you  only  think  the  same  thing  over  and 
over  again,  and  a  man  gets  used  to  everything;  and  in 
six  months  "  .  .  .  et  cetera.  And  then  he  desisted  obsti- 
nately from  pacing  up  and  down  the  room,  and  flung  him- 
self down  in  his  easy-chair  before  the  fire,  and  looked  at 
his  slippers  (which  had  been  worked  by  Jane,)  and  won- 
dered on  what  kind  of  principles  Feltham  had  conducted 
his  engagement  —  a  speculation  which  brought  him  round, 
quite  easily  and  without  any  exertion  of  his  to  the  pros- 
pect the  afternoon  held  out  before  him  and,  the  expression 
which  the  heiress's  eyes,  under  the  influence  of  Moet  and 
affection,  had  worn  the  night  before. 

At  the  same  moment,  Jane  Dash  wood  was  thinking  of 
him,  as  she  stepped  into  a  hired  brougham  at  the  door  of 
her  sister's  house.  Thinking  of  him  with  brain  on  fire, 
with  resolve  of  sharp  and  instant  vengeance  in  her  heart ; 
with  all  the  superiority  that  an  ordinarily  clever  woman 
must  possess  over  an  ordinarily  stupid  man  in  any  passion- 
ate crisis  of  life. 

In  all  other  phases  of  love  I  have  observed  that  men 
act  and  women  feel :  in  infidelity,  on  either  side,  women 


380  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

pass  at  once  from  the  subjective  to  the  objective :  and 
this  almost  without  a  variation.  A  man  who  has  been 
betrayed  suffers  silently,  or  goes  to  Iceland,  or  doesn't 
suffer  at  all.  A  woman  either  nominates  a  successor,  or 
plans  direct,  sharp  punishment  upon  the  guilty  one  in  the 
first  hour  of  her  abandonment.  All  unreasoning  crea- 
tires  do  the  same.  Look  how  a  child  rebels  from  the 
pain  which,  in  maturity,  he  knows  he  must  accept.  Dur- 
ing the  long  and  bitter  night,  only  two  ideas  had  been 
present  in  Jane  Dash  wood's  brain :  first,  to  bruise  every 
fibre  of  Arthur  Peel's  heart,  if  she  could,  before  finishing 
\vith  him  for  ever;  secondly,  to  recall  Lord  Feltham,  and 
to  begin  the  purchase  of  the  trousseau  at  once.  Action 
she  must  have ;  and  by  the  time  the  day  had  dawned  her 
mind  had  definitely  resolved  upon  the  shape  in  which  her 
revenge  should  show  itself. 

"  Don't  come  —  don't  come  with  me,"  she  cried,  hastily, 
when  Esther's  face  showed  repugnance  to  the  scheme  she 
was  proposing.  "  If  you  think  it  improper,  don't  do  vio- 
lence to  your  feelings.  I  can  get  Lawrence  to  go  with  me 
or  I  can  go  alone.  What  do  I  care  about  appearances  ?  " 

"But  to  go  to  the  barracks,  Jane  !  Young  women  of 
our  age  to  go  alone  to  the  Knightsbridge  barracks !  If 
you  were  to  write  to  him  instead,  now ' 

Miss  Dash  wood  laughed  disdainfully.  "  You  are  just 
as  bad  asMillicent,  Esther.  All  women  are  just  the  same 
in  such  things.  Maintain  the  letter,  never  mind  the  spir- 
it of  the  law !  I  repeat  to  you,  I  am  going  to  visit  Arthur 
Peel  this  morning,  and  I  ask  you,  for  the  last  time,  to  ac- 
company me.  How  are  either  of  us  to  be  injured  by  such 
a  deed,  pray?  I  know  by  your  face  what  you  think  :  Lord 
Feltham  might  hear  of  it.  Let  him  do  so  and  give  me 
up,  and  I  will  marry  some  one  else  in  six  weeks  —  the  best 
thing  for  both  of  us,  perhaps !  Paul  might  give  you  a 
sermon  ?  Let  him  do  so,  and  give  over  paying  you  mean- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        381 

ingless  attentions  at  the  same  time.  It  would  be  the  best 
thing  that  could  happen  to  both  of  you  ! " 

As  well  argue  with  a  wild  cat  brought  to  bay,  as  with 
one  of  these  small,  blonde  women  newly  robbed  of  her 
love,  and,  worse  far,  newly  wounded  in  her  vanity.  Jane 
at  that  moment  would  have  given  up  her  life,  her  reputa- 
tion, her  very  beauty,  almost,  but  to  lower  Arthur  Peel, 
heart  and  soul,  in  the  dust ;  and,  seeing  this,  Esther  put 
aside  her  own  scruples  and  consented,  without  another 
word,  to  be  her  companion.  Only  as  they  drove  along, 
and  as  she  marked  Jane's  flushed  cheek  and  tiny  clenched 
fists,  and  heard  the  bitter  scorching  words  that  ever  and 
anon  broke  from  her  tongue,  she  did  thank  heaven  that  of 
all  this  she  had  not  even  the  rudimentary  elements  in  her 
own  nature.  She  loved  Paul  passionately.  Beauty,  life, 
repute  —  well,  perhaps  she  would  have  given  them  all  if 
such  gifts  could  in  anything  have  ministered  to  his  good. 
But  to  turn  against  him  by  a  hair's  breadth,  under  neg- 
lect, under  cruelest  betrayal  to  turn  against  him  —  no, 
this  was  not  in  her,  and  she  thanked  heaven  that  it  was 
n-ot.  She  had  little  cause  to  do  so.  The  majority  of  our 
thanksgivings  are  as  mistaken  as  the  majority  of  our 
prayers.  Women  who  rebel,  who  fight,  who  humiliate, 
who  elect  successors,  are  of  the  many :  women  who  ac- 
cept, and  live  their  love  and  their  despair  out,  are  of  the 
few.  And  nature  is  beneficent.  The  many  (in  number- 
less other  things  than  love)  are  really  and  intrinsically  the 
wisest  and  the  happiest  of  the  earth. 

If  his  lawyer  had  walked  into  his  room  and  informed  him 
that  seventeen  of  his  relations  were  dead,  and  he  had  in- 
herited his  twentieth  cousin's  estate  and  the  title  in  York- 
shire ;  if  all  the  Hebrews  of  his  large  eastern  acquaintance 
had  appeared,  and  offered  to  burn  his  own  bills  before  his 
eyes  ;  if  Morty  Delamaine  had  walked  in  to  communicate 
the  fact  of  Miss  Lynes  having  changed  her  mind,  or  to 


382  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

challenge  him,  Arthur  Peel,  to  instant  single  and  mortal 
combat ;  —  if  any,  or  all  of  these  circumstances  had  oc- 
curred to  Mr.  Peel  at  once,  his  brain  could  not  have  un- 
dergone more  absolute,  unconditional  vertigo  than  it  did, 
half  an  hour  later,  on  the  sudden  appearance  of  the  two 
young  women  in  his  room. 

"You  are  not  to  announce  us  to  Mr.  Peel,"  Jane  had 
said  to  the  servant,  whom  she  knew  well,  and  who,  open- 
eyed  and  open-mouthed  with  horror,  recognised  in  her 
one  of  the  young  ladies  who  had  dismounted  in  the ' 
barrack-square.  "  It's  a  joke  —  the  fulfillment  of  a  bet ; 
Mr.  Peel  knows  about  it,  and  won't  be  surprised  to  see 
us."  And  then,  without  faltering  a  second,  she  walked 
up  to  the  door  the  man  pointed  out,  gave  one  decisive 
tap,  waited  for  Arthur's  voice  to  bid  her  enter,  and  walk- 
ed in. 

He  was  staring  at  his  slippers  still ;  and  an  expletive 
rather  more  forcible  than  his  present  state  of  mind  might 
have  promised,  rose  to  his  lips  at  his  servant's  supposed 
interruption.  As  he  half-turned  his  head  he  heard  the 
rustle  of  a  silk  dress.  He  sprang  up,  expecting  —  well, 
whatever  he  expected,  it  was  not  half  so  bad  as  what  he 
saw.  His  face,  his  lips  turned  livid.  The  apparition 
which  strikes  death  to  Don  Giovanni,  preparatory  to  the 
blue  fire  of  the  last  scene  of  all,  is  not  more  appalling  to 
that  unhappy  reprobate  than  was  the  sight  of  the  woman 
he  best  loved  to  Mr.  Peel. 

"  Jane  —  You  here !  " 

"  Yes,  Arthur,  I  am  here." 

When  a  woman  is  going  to  be  pitilessly  cruel  or  gross- 
ly unjust  to  the  man  she  loves,  she  nearly  always  comes 
up  to  time  with  a  smiling  face  and  nerves  of  steel.  This 
is  their  warfare,  you  must  remember;  these  are  their  mo- 
ments of  courage,  —  the  brief  standing-point  often  out 
of  God  knows  how  many  years  of  patient  slavery  or 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        383 

wrong!  For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Jane  found  herself 
where  imagination  had  so  often  taken  her,  in  Arthur 
Peel's  room.  In  one  second,  with  one  glance,  her  eyes 
took  in  every  little  familiar  detail  that  told  of  her  among 
his  belongings.  Her  Tennyson,  stolen  from  her  long  ago, 
and  when  they  were  at  the  boy-and-girl,  or  sentimental 
scene  of  the  tragedy ;  her  drawings  on  the  wall ;  her 
photograph  upon  the  mantlepiece ;  her  portrait  taken  in 
the  first  flush  of  her  youth  and  freshness,  and  looking  now 
straight  into  his  faithless  face.  She  saw  all  these  :  she 
felt  herself  for  the  first  time  in  his  room  —  a  frightfully 
dangerous  influence  to  a  woman  as  much  in  love  as  she 
was  —  and  her  voice  was  as  steady,  her  cheek  as  unvary- 
ing as  the  voice  and  cheek  of  the  coolest  general  who  ever 
lived  under  the  opening  fire  of  a  battle. 

"  I  am  here,  Arthur.  Miss  Fleming  and  I  have  come  to 
pay  you  a  morning  visit.  I  hope  we  have  not  disturbed 
you  too  early  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not.  I  —  I  wish,  I  mean  —  I  think  you 
might  have  sent  for  me.  Really  I  don't  like  to " 

"To  see  us  here  !"  Miss  Dash  wood  finished  for  him,  as 
Mr.  Peel  stood,  the  very  picture  of  shame  and  shyness, 
staring  first  at  one,  then  at  the  other  of  his  visitors,  and  un- 
consciously holding  the  end  of  his  cigar  far  away  behind 
him.  "We  will  waive  the  incivility  of  the  remark  in 
consideration  of  its  entire  sincerity.  You  don't  like  to  see 
me  here.  I  never/ thought  you  would.  However,  I  have 
come  on  an  errand  of  considerable  importance  to  myself, 
and  I  will  behave  well  to  you.  I  will  not  keep  you 
long." 

If  she  had  been  tempestuous,  as  he  had  seen  her  so 
often  before,  Arthur  Peel  would  probably  have  borne  what 
was  coming  better;  but  his  sense  of  the  tornado  which 
those  set  lips,  those  calm  polite  words  must  forebode 
crushed  him  into  a  state  bordering  on  literal,  absolute, 


384  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

terror.  He  had  ridden  "  into  the  jaws  of  death  "  with  the 
rest,  without  as  much  as  a  flush  upon  his  fair  girlish  face ; 
"and,  by  Jove  !  I'd  rather  go  through  that  again,  rather 
face  a  dozen  Cossack  regiments  at  once,"  he  explained, 
when  recounting  the  scene  to  one  of  his  friends  after- 
wards, "than  have  to  stand  there,  like  a  cursed  fool  as  I 
was,  under  the  fire  of  that  girl's  eyes.  Hang  her  ! "  Mr. 
Peel  would  add,  sulkily  —  for  when  he  had  got  to  the 
stage  of  confession  he  was  already  Miss  Lynes'  lawful  pos- 
sessor—  "Hang  her  !  what  right  had  she  to  come  down 
upon  me  in  such  an  infernal  demoniac  temper?  an  en- 
gaged woman,  and  flirting  with  half  the  men  in  London 
besides !  And  I'd  neither  sense  nor  spirit  enough  to  tell 
her  so  —  that's  always  the  way  with  a  fellow's  head  ;  ev- 
erything comes  into  it  afterwards  ;  and  at  the  time  —  I 
mean  when  you're  mixed  up  with  women — you've  no 
more  idea  what  to  say  or  do  than  —  than " 

And  then,  Mr.  Peel's  brain  not  being  fertile  in  imagery, 
he  was  wont  to  fill  up  the  vacuum  by  adding  "the  doose  !  " 
which,  if  you  take  it  as  a  pet  name  for  the  embodiment 
of  evil,  was,  to  say  the  least,  inconsequential  :  that  astute 
personage  (I  speak  as  dramatic  art  has  shown  him  forth) 
being  never  at  a  loss  what  to  say  or  do  in  any  situation  ; 
above  all,  in  those  wherein  you  are  mixed  up  with  wo- 
men. 

"  No  ;  I  will  not  keep  you  long,  Mr.  Peel."  She  had 
to  go  on  herself,  for  no  word  came  from  the  young  man's 
lips,  and  Esther  Fleming,  who  wished  herself  in  the  re- 
motest part  of  the  earth,  was  pretending  to  examine  a 
florid  but  anatomical  portrait  of  Mademoiselle  Parepa 
on  the  wall.  "  I  have  come  on  an  errand  which  can  be 
executed  in  five  minutes.  You  are  going  to  marry  Miss 
Lynes,  I  hear." 

"  Jane,"  he  stammered  out,  "  What  was  I  to  do  ?  I  am 
a  ruined  man.  You  know  it  —  and  you  gave  me  up  first ! ' 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  385 

"  I  don't  think  I  am  questioning  your  good  sense  or 
your  thorough  liberty  to  make  any  person  you  choose 
your  wife.  I  simply  wished  to  hear  the  truth  from  you. 
You  are  going  to  marry  Miss  Lynes?"  And  now  the 
muscles  round  her  mouth  did  tremble :  the  mouth  is  al- 
ways the  first  feature  to  turn  traitor :  and,  you  know, 
this  was  the  very  wrench  of  death  to  her ;  and  she  was 
looking  into  the  eyes  of  the  man  to  please  whom  during 
three  years  of  her  life  she  would  at  any  time  have  sold 
her  own  soul,  looking  into  them  for  the  last  time  while 
she  should  live  !  "  You  are  going  to  marry  her.  I  have 
not  been  misinformed  ?  " 

"I  repeat,  Jane,  that  you  gave  me  up  first." 

"Mr.  Peel,  spare  prevarication  for  some  occasion  when 
it  can  by  possibility  stand  you  in  good  stead.  It  is  sim- 
ply foolish  now.  A.re  you  going  to  marry  Miss  Lynes  ?  " 

"lam." 

Her  face  grew  white  all  over,  all  power  of  speech  for  a 
minute  forsook  her:  and  only  the  fierce  voice  of  passion- 
ate, natural  jealousy  cried  out  in  her  heart !  For  a  min- 
ute —  a  minute  only ;  then  she  calmed  again.  "  I  did 
not  think  I  had  been  misinformed  ;  indeed,  for  a  long 
time  past  I  have  seen  what  it  was  intended  you  should 
do ;  but  I  thought  it  right  to  let  you  make  the  statement 
plainly.  Mr.  Peel,  you  have  not  had  time  yet  to  show 
Miss  Lynes  my  letters,  have  you  ?  " 

"  Miss  Dashwood  !  " 

"  Oh,  please  don't  be  indignant.  You  know  I  never 
can  endure  anything  like  a  scene,  and  you  must  remember 
you  used  to  show  me  Mrs.  Strangways'  notes  whenever  I 
liked  to  take  the  trouble  to  read  them.  You  haven't  had 
time  yet  to  show  mine  ?  tell  me  truly,  please." 

"  If  you  think  me  dishonorable  enough  to  do  such  a 
thing,  I  wonder  you  care  to  take  my  word  as  a  denial." 

"  Dishonorable  !  "  You  should  have  heard  the  empha- 
17 


386  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

sis  on  the  word.  "  Dishonorable  !  Mr.  Peel,  I  am  one- 
and-twenty,  and  I  have  known  you  intimately  for  more 
than  three  years.  I  forget  all  about  honor  and  dishonor 
as  we  were  taught  to  define  them  in  our  school-themes . 
I  know  only  the  distinctions  that  exist  between  them  in 
men's  minds.  How  you  deal  with  each  other  in  the  great 
affairs  of  gambling  and  horse-racing  I  neither  know  nor 
care.  Where  such  small  matters  as  a  woman's  peace  or  a 
woman's  reputation  are  concerned,  all  men  of  your  class 
are  dishonorable  to  the  core  —  and  you  above  them  all. 
I  haven't  a  father  or  a  brother  at  hand  to  do  the  office  for 
me,  so  I  have  come  now  to  put  it  out  of  your  power  to 
injure  me.  Give  me  back  my  letters,  please." 

The  tone  in  which  she  made  the  last  request  was  quiet, 
almost  passive.  She  clasped  her  hands  together,  and 
leaning  them  upon  the  mantelpiece,  rested  her  cheek 
down  weariedly  upon  them.  You  may  recollect  that  at 
the  moment  when  Oliver  Carew  had  finally  lost  Miss 
Fleming  he  coveted  more  to  possess  her  than  he  had 
ever  done  in  the  days  when  her  heart,  of  right,  was  his. 
I  regret  that  I  have  only  the  same  class  of  feeling  to  im- 
pute to  Arthur  Peel.  If  I  wrote  sensation  novels  nothing 
should  induce  me  to  be  guilty  of  this  kind  of  tame  reit- 
eration ;  but  being  only  an  humble  depicter  of  such  men 
and  things  as  I  have  seen,  I  can't  avoid  going  in  well- 
worn  grooves.  And  the  majority  of  human  creatures  are 
so  trite,  so  consistent,  so  uniform  even  in  their  moments 
of  strongest  emotion,  of  deepest  passion !  Arthur  Peel 
looked  at  these  clasped  hands  he  had  kissed  so  often,  at 
that  delicate  pale  cheek,  at  those  half-quivering  lips,  and 
was  sensible  of  as  much  acute  loathing  to  Miss  Lynes,  as 
much  fierce  jealousy  of  Lord  Feltham,  as  much  disgust 
against  his  debts  and  himself  and  the  whole  world  in  a 
mass,  as  it  is  perhaps  possible  for  a  man  well  used  up  in 
London  life,  and  with  originally  shallow  pasions,  and  a 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  387 

very  small  amount  of  that  great  reflector  and  multiplier 
of  the  passions  —  brain,  to  sustain. 

"  I  never  thought  we  should  come  to  this,  Jane ;  upon 
my  soul  I  didn't !  I  hope  you  don't  mean  to  be  bad 
friends  with  me  always." 

He  touched  one  of  her  hands  nervously,  imploringly, 
and  put  his  face  close  to  hers.  Miss  Dash  wood  drew  her- 
self away  from  him  coldly.  Under  any  other  circumstan- 
ces in  the  world  such  an  appeal  coming  to  her  from 
Arthur  must  have  had  some  effect.  But  nearly  all  wo- 
men when  they  are  jealous  (of  a  legitimate  object)  recoil 
from  a  personal  appeal  as  they  would  from  an  insult.  I 
don't  explain  this :  but  I  know  it  is  so. 

"Mr.  Peel,  you  make  me  feel  what  I  incurred  in  com- 
ing here  without  a  man  to  protect  me.  I  don't  know, 
though,  that  I  particularly  admire  you  for  wishing  to 
convey  the  reproach.  You  have  no  right,  you  know  you 
have  none,  to  regard  me  in  another  light  than  a  stranger, 
even  had  I  come  here  actually  alone.  You  have  no  right 
to  remind  me  of  the  past  any  more  than  you  have  to  the 
possession  of  my  letters  —  or  of  this  ! " 

She  walked  straight  across  to  the  sketch  of  herself 

o 

that  I  have  mentioned,  took  it  down  from  the  wall,  and 
began,  but  with  trembling  hands  (for  her  courage  was 
going  fast  and  passion  gaining  ground,)  to  remove  it  from 
the  frame. 

"  Jane,  that,  at  least,  is  mine.  You  shall  not  take  it 
away  !  I'll  show  it  to  no  one  while  I  live,  but  I  will  not 
part  from  it.  It  is  mine  !  " 

"  Legally  yours,  no  doubt."  Anil  now  she  looked  at 
him  with  the  kindling  glow  in  her  eyes  that  he  knew  so 
well.  "Legally  yours  ;  but  by  all  moral  right,  by  all  just 
right,  mine.  I  won't  trust  even  this  to  you.  When  you 
are  married,  you  shall  not  have  it  in  your  power  to  show 
my  picture  to  your  friends,  and  say,  '  That's  the  girl's  face 


388  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

who  loved  me  for  years,  who  would  have  loved  me 
always  if  I  had  only  chosen  to  take  her.'  Boast  of  me, 
you  will,  no  doubt,  but  you  shall  have  no  tangible  proof 
that  I  can  make  away  with  to  bear  evidence  to  your 
words.  This  picture  belongs  to  my  past  life,  sir !  —  my 
past  life  !  that  you  destroyed  for  me  just  as  pitilessly  as 
I  destroy  this  poor  piece  of  paper  now.  Let  it  all  go  to- 
gether. I  regret  none  of  it." 

She  looked  one  instant  at  the  picture  of  her  own  happy, 
girlish  face,  then  tore  it  deliberately  across  three,  four 
times,  walked  back  to  her  place,  and  flung  the  fragments 
in  the  fire. 

Have  you  ever  been  present  at  a  holocaust  of  this  kind  ? 
Do  you  know  the  strange,  shocked  sense  —  like  witness- 
ing the  death  of  a  living  thing  —  that  such  an  act  of  vio- 
lence occasions  ?  Esther  Fleming,  whose  interest  was, 
of  course,  only  the  vicarious  one  that  all  persons  under 
twenty-five  must  feel  in  all  love  affairs  —  Esther  Fleming 
felt  quite  a  spasm  of  pain  as  the  sharp  rending  of  the 
paper  fell  on  her  ears.  Arthur  Peel  grew  crimson  to  his 
temples. 

"  You  have  done  what  you  had  no  right  to  do,  Jane. 
You  have  robbed  me  of  a  thing  that  might  have  been  of 
use  to  me  in  the  kind  of  life  I  am  going  to  lead  for  the 
future  —  a  thing  it  would  never  have  harmed  you  for  me 
to  keep." 

Justice  and  truth  were  on  his  side  in  this ;  and  Jane 
knew  it,  and  was  the  bitterer  for  the  knowledge.  Be- 
sides, her  blood  was  up,  as  some  men's  is  after  the  first 
death-stroke  they  bestow  in  action.  The  first  act  which 
ministered  to  her  revenge  had  stirred  in  her  the  desire 
for  further  vengeance. 

"Jane  Dashwood's  picture,  as  she  was  three  years  ago, 
could  be  of  no  use  to  Miss  Lynes'  husband  now.  It  is 
the  picture  of  a  person  who  exists  no  longer.  Three 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  389 

years  ago  Jane  Dashwood  was  young,  loving,  with  all  her 

faults,  and  now Mr.  Peel,  why  do  we  waste  time  in 

this  way  ?  Give  me  my  letters,  please.  You  haven't 
burnt  them,  you  know ;  you  told  me  so  not  a  week  ago. 
Give  them  to  me.  I  have  brought  back  every  one  of 
yours." 

And  she  drew  a  packet  from  her  pocket  (not  a  very 
large  packet :  following  an  inevitable  natural  law,  Mr. 
PeePs  love-letters  had  covered  about  one-tenth  the  bulk 
of  paper  that  had  been  consumed  by  her  to  him,)  and 
threw  it  down  before  him  upon  the  table. 

Not  Mr.  Redpath  himself,  suddenly  convicted  in  the 
very  act  of  indorsing  one  of  his  nefarious  bills,  could  have 
looked  more  abjectly  conscience-stricken  than  did  Arthur 
Peel  as  he  proceeded  to  unlock  a  table-drawer  and  bring 
forth  from  it  Jane  Dash  wood's  letters.  He  had  kept  them 
all.  In  this  kind  of  folly  I  believe  that  women  are  fully 
equalled,  occasionally  outstripped,  by  most  very  young 
men.  From  the  long  school-girl  love-letters,  written  in 
the  first  days  of  their  engagement,  down  to  the  short 
notes,  often  consisting  of  only  two  or  three  blurred  lines, 
which  she  had  written  to  him  since  her  engagement  with 
Lord  Feltharn,  he  had  kept  them  all.  The  whole  writ- 
ten record  of  so  much  folly  and  of  so  much  love;  of 
endless  falsehood,  and  yet,  in  one  sense,  of  the  best  and 
truest  part  of  two  otherwise  wasted  and  artificial  lives. 

"  They  will  make  a  goodly  pile,"  cried  Jane,  with  her 
little  hard  laugh.  "  Mr.  Peel,  may  I  ask  you  to  give  me 
some  string?  It  will  really  be  as  much  as  Esther  and  I 
will  be  able  to  do  to  carry  them  away  between  us." 

He  gave  her  what  she  wanted ;  he  watched  patiently, 
feeling  —  and  I  believe  I  may  add  looking  —  the  most 
utter  fool,  while  she  tied  the  letters  up  in  two  compact, 
carefully-arranged  packets.  But  not  till  she  had  quite 
done  —  till  she  had  risen  and  told  her  companion  she  was 


390  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

ready  to  depart  —  did  a  word  pass  his  lips.  Then  it 
came  ;  quite  with  a  natural  outburst.  I  think  the  better 
of  Mr.  Peel  for  feeling  something  so  like  a  sob  come  in 
his  throat  as  he  spoke.  "You  are  harder  on  me  than  I 
deserve,  Jane.  I  am  a  ruined  man  :  it  is  forced  upon  me 
to  marry  Miss  Lynes  ;  but  I  was  not  the  first  to  be  false, 
and  I  have  never  ceased  to  love  you." 

She  threw  the  packets  of  letters  upon  the  table,  and 
turned  upon  him  full.  Small  and  blonde  though  she  was, 
the  greatest  tragic  actress  of  them  all  might  have  copied 
from  her  in  this  moment  of  intense,  jealous  passion  —  by 
far  the  most  frequent  kind  of  tragedy  that  the  monotony 
of  modern  life  ever  shows  to  us.  She  was  too  essentially 
feminine  to  be  any  thing  but  quiet  in  her  gestures  and  in  her 
voice.  It  was  in  the  scorching  fire  of  her  blue  eyes  —  in 
the  tension  of  the  muscles  round  the  mouth  —  in  the  un- 
conscious iron  clench  of  her  small  hands,  that  an  artist 
would  have  read  the  true  embodiment  of  passion.  No 
need  of  noise,  no  need  of  violence  for  a  Lucretia  or  a 
Norma  who  could  rival  life  like  this ! 

"  You  were  not  the  first  to  be  faithless  ?  Mr.  Peel, 
those  words  are  false,  and  you  know  it !  I  accepted  Lord 

Feltham  because because  you  told  me  to  do  it !  You 

know  the  night  well,  at  the  Opera,  when  you  told  me,  and 
I  did  accept  him  next  day.  And  I  cared  for  you  on  that 
day  just  as  I'd  done  from  the  first,  and  I  wrote  and  told 
you  so.  The  letter  was  in  my  hand  a  minute  ago ;  and  I 
said,  if  you  only  spoke  one  word  I'd  break  it  off  and 
marry  you,  and  try  to  make  the  best  of  poverty  and  dis- 
grace, if  need  be,  for  your  sake  !  You  know  what  you 
answered  — if,  indeed,  in  one  long  tissue  of  falsehoods  you 
should  chance  to  remember  this  especial  one  —  you  talked 
of  your  love  being  too  great  to  let  you  bring  me  to  pov- 
erty, and  that,  miserable  though  it  made  you,  you  would 
rather  see  me  marry  with  the  prospect  of  becoming  rich 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  391 

—  and  —  great  God  !  why  do  I  repeat  it  ?  why  do  I 
remember  it  ?  All  my  own  falsehood,  all  my  treachery 
to  Lord  Feltham,  I  take  upon  myself:  that  hasn't  got  to 
bespoken  of  to  you.  To  you  I  have  been  faithful,  sir! 
—  faithful,  with  the  miserable,  contemptible  fidelity  that 
an  ill-used  horse  or  dog  will  show  towards  a  cruel  master, 
through  three  long  years !  Last  night  I  woke  up  to  see 
the  truth,  to  see  that  I  have  loved  something  of  my  own 
imagination,  not  you  —  not  the  poor,  weak,  vain  creature 
that  I  now  know  Mr.  Arthur  Peel  to  be.  Everything 
has  turned  out  best  for  us  both.  Married  to  Lord  Felt- 
ham,  I  shall  have  position ;  married  to  Miss  Lynes,  you 
will  have  money.  We  shall  see  nothing  more  of  each 
other :  and  to  me,  at  least,  the  lesson  of  the  past  has  been 
a  wholesome  one.  Mr.  ^eel,  good-bye." 

But  Mr.  Peel  never  took  her  outstretched  hand.  He 
was  in  that  state  of  utter,  voiceless  collapse  to  which 
nothing  but  a  woman's  tongue  can  ever  reduce  an  Eng- 
lishman (a  Frenchman  can  weep  on  many  occasions  per- 
taining to  love).  That  Jane  Dash  wood  could  look  in  his 
face  and  tell  him  she  had  never  loved  him  was  mon- 
strous ;  but  that  she  should  convict  him,  as  she  really 
seemed  to  do,  of  gross  dishonor,  was  worse.  He  felt  he 
wasn't  a  bit  guiltier  than  all  other  young  men  of  his  moral 
and  mental  calibre;  that  he  had  only  played  fast  and 
loose  with  the  girl,  just  as  she  had  done  with  himself; 
and  that  even  if  he  had  not  offered  to  Miss  Lynes,  the 
chances  were  ten  to  one  that  Jane  would  have  married 
Feltham  in  six  months.  To  all  the  rest  of  the  truth,  of 
the  pathos  underlying  her  passionate  and  unjust  words 
—  which  you,  I  hope,  see  —  Mr.  Peel  was  naturally  blind. 
The  few  high  qualities  in  a  faulty,  artificial  character  like 
poor  Jane's,  are  rarely  discernible  by  inferior  minds ;  and 
Mr.  Peel  was  grades  and  grades  beneath  her,  both  in 
heart  and  brain.  He  knew  that  she  had  glossy  hair  and 


392  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

white  teeth,  fair  complexion  and  rounded  waist;  also, 
that  she  possessed  a  bad  temper  and  infinite  tenderness 
for  himself:  nothing  further,  except,  perhaps,  at  this  mo- 
ment, when  it  was  dimly  dawning  on  the  chaos  of  his 
thoughts  that  she  was  capable  of  demoniac  jealousy  and 
revenge,  and  that  Miss  Lynes,  with  her  lethargic  tempera- 
ment and  thick  waist,  might,  after  all,  be  the  best  sort  of 
thing  to  possess  as  a  wife  ! 

"  Don't  you  wish  to  shake  hands  with  me,  Mr.  Peel  ? 
Very  well,  we  will  part  without  shaking  hands,  then.  Es- 
ther, you  will  help  me  to  carry  away  a  portion  of  my  own 
property,  won't  you  ?  I  am  really  ashamed  to  have  kept 
you  waiting  so  long." 

"  Jane  !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  she  moved  towards  the  door, 
and  the  reality  came  full  upon  hLn  that  he  was  losing  her 
— had  at  this  very  moment  lost  her  for  ever,  "  don't  go 
yet.  Say  a  friendly  word  or  two  first.  When  we  meet 
for  the  future,  you  don't  intend  we  should  be  perfect 
strangers,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Perfect  strangers,"  answered  Miss  Dash  wood.  "  Strang- 
ers in  the  fullest  acceptation  of  the  word.  I  do  not  in- 
tend to  know  Miss  Lynes,  and  consequently  I  shall  be  un- 
able to  know  you.  This  is  as  much  a  parting  as  if  you 
or  I  were  destined  to  die  to-night." 

She  hesitated  a  moment  —  Esther  Fleming  had  dis- 
creetly gone  on  alone  —  then  she  turned:  she  rushed 
back  to  him,  flung  her  arms  up  once  more  round  his  neck, 
covered  his  face  with  kisses,  and  left  him ! 

They  were  the  last  kisses  of  passionate  love  that  any 
woman's  lips  should  give  to  Arthur  Peel  while  he  lived. 
Such  things  are  very  rare,  you  know  ;  can't  be  bought, 
can't  be  commanded  ;  only  come  at  the  very  rare  crises 
—  once  or  twice,  say  —  in  a  man's  life  ! 

And  this  was  such  a  crisis.  It  was,  as  Miss  Dash  wood 
had  said,  as  irrevocable  a  separation  as  though  one  of 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        393 

them  had  died  that  night.  When  she  next  met  Arthur 
Peel  again,  a  day  or  tyro  afterwards,  in  Miss  Lynes'  com- 
pany, she  looked  him  straight  between  the  eyes,  and  cut 
him  without  a  pang. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 


BUT  though  she  kept  up  bravely,  shielded  away  every 
mark  of  suffering  —  not  from  the  world  alone,  that  had 
been  easy,  but  from  those  immediately  around  her  —  Jane 
Dash  wood  went  through  a  very  "hell  of  time"  during 
the  first  days  succeeding  that  visit  of  hers  to  Arthur. 

At  first,  of  course,  she  fell  into  the  common  error  of 
temperaments  like  hers ;  thought  she  would  be  utterly 
changed  at  once ;  after  that  the  great  shock  of  parting 
all  her  old  self,  all  her  old  passionate  love  must  be  dead 
—  swept  away  for  ever.  Then,  the  first  excitement  over, 
came  the  common  surprise  at  finding  how  very  little  of 
herself  was  indeed  gone  ;  how  cruelly,  constantly  Arthur's 
face  haunted  her  still ;  how  dull  and  tasteless  were  her 
days  without  the  delicious  intoxication  of  his  flatteries 
and  his  love. 

"  He  would  never  love  her  any  more  !  "  She  had  broken 
with  him;  had  offered  him  the  last  deadly  affront  of  cut- 
ting him  in  the  presence  of  Miss  Lynes;  and  pride  and 
reason,  and  a  sense  not  wholly  perverted  of  honor,  all 
cried  out  that  it  was  for  her  good  that  they  should  meet 
no  longer,  should  become  as  strangers  in  each  other's 
presence. ,  And  yet  still  was  this  the  bitter  outcry  of 
Miss  Dashwood's  heart:  "  He  would  never  love  her  any 
more !  "  She  knew  well  (not  theoretically,  but  by  that 
17* 


394  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

combination  of  worldly  experience  and  natural  instinct 
which  supplies  reason  in  her  sex)  that  this  was  the  case  ; 
and  she  was  right.  A  judgment  sharper  than  all  that 
moralists  hold  over  our  heads  lies  in  the  simple,  natural, 
or  physical  law,  that  while  men  may,  and  do  return  to  a 
neglected  duty  or  sullied  legitimate  love,  no  fire  will  ever 
rekindle  the  ashes  once  burnt  out  of  a  passion  without 
affection  —  a  passion  such  as  Arthur  Peel's  had  been  for 
Jane.  "  He  would  never  love  her  any  more."  She  knew 
it,  and  her  heart  literally  sickened  under  the  blow.  Some- 
thing of  the  reality  and  awfulness  of  life,  —  of  life  as  it 
must  be  when  love  and  playing  at  love,  and  when  youth, 
and  admiration,  and  beauty  should  be  past  —  overcame 
her.  She  went  out  as  usual ;  she  drove,  she  rode,  she 
danced,  dressed,  flirted  ;  but  a  dull,  dark  weight  lay  for 
more  than  a  fortnight  upon  her  brain  ;  and  the  first  ob- 
ject —  poor  little,  Jane  !  —  upon  which  anything  like  light 
rested,  was  the  vision  of  Oliver's  far-off  handsome  face. 

She  felt  nothing;  no  one  spark  of  the  passion  of  love 
for  him,  either  then  or  afterwards.  But  I  have  already 
remarked  to  you  that  she  belonged  to  that  enormously 
large  section  of  women  whose  first  instinct,  after  disap- 
pointment in  love,  is  to  nominate  a  successor  ;  and  I  think 
myself  it  showed  a  great  deal  of  natural  right-heartedness 
in  her,  that,  after  so  fierce  a  revolution,  the  legitimate  heir 
did  quietly  take  the  empty  place,  and  not  an  alien.  It  was 
not  from  worldly  wisdom ;  it  was  not  from  absence  of 
temptation.  Simply  and  truly,  as  much  of  regard  as  Jane 
could  now  bring  to  any  man,  she  gave  to  Feltham  in  this 
first  revulsion  of  feeling.  And  she  never  changed  again. 

Women  whom  circumstances  early  render  passionless, 
become  very  honest,  or  very  much  indeed  the  reverse. 
Jane  was  one  of  the  first  class  :  her  nature,  in  spite  of  all 
education,  was  a  pure  one.  She  could  have  committed 
any  amount  of  folly  —  of  wickedness,  if  you  will  —  when 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         395 

she  loved.  Love  gone,  all  her  great  capabilities  were  gone 
too.  She  has,  at  this  present  time,  her  diamonds — for, 
surely,  it  doesn't  take  away  your  interest  to  forestal  the 
catastrophe  by  forty  or  more  pages,  and  tell  you  boldly 
that  she  and  Lord  Felthara  are  married — diamonds, 
emeralds,  carriages,  box  at  the  opera,  hosts  of  friends, 
and  two  little  children.  She  is  not  at  all  callous  to  mon- 
ey and  the  enjoyment  money  brings ;  she  is  fonder  than 
most  fashionable  young  mothers  of  her  children  ;  she 
doesn't  flirt  much;  she  likes  Feltham  pretty  well.  She 
leads  the  usual  life  that  most  of  us  lead,  in  short ;  and  at- 
tends church,  and  performs  regular  duties  as  sedulously 
as  that  little  arch -hypocrite  her  sister  Milly.  But,  to  me, 
Lady  Feltham's  life  is  always  one  about  which  an  infinite 
pathos  rests.  For,  deep  down,  buried  away  under  the 
cumbrous  burden  of  all  her  prosperity  and  all  her  virtue, 
I  know  what  skeleton  lies  yet  unmouldered  ! 

We  pity,  in  fiction,  a  conscience  laden  by  one  over- 
whelming guilt,  like  Eugene  Aram's,  but  it  seldom  occurs 
to  us  to  speculate  as  to  how  many  of  our  intimate  friends 
may  deserve  far  tenderer  pity  —  women  especially. 
Among  all  the  successful  people  of  your  acquaintance, 
how  many,  do  you  suppose,  are  not  haunted  by  the 
thought  of  some  murder,  or,  at  all  events,  justifiable  hom- 
icide, to  which,  during  some  of  the  stages  of  their  up- 
ward career,  they  were  accessory  ?  For  some  it  was  hon- 
or that  had  to  be  put  out  of  the  way ;  for  some,  youth ; 
for  some  only  love;  —  and  unimportant,  from  a  commer- 
cial point  of  view,  though  love  may  be,  I  think  its  ghost 
walks  longest. 

After  thirty,  Lady  Feltharn,  beyond  doubt,  will  see  how 
well  her  life  has  turned  out  for  her;  and  she  will  flirt, 
perhaps,  rather  more,  and  take  greater  interest  in  her 
dress,  and  like  to  go  oftener  to  Paris  than  she  does  now : 
and  then  she  will  certainly  interest  me  no  longer. 


396  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

But  she  is  a  great  many  years  from  thirty  now.  And 
if  you  watch  her  narrowly  at  the  Opera,  you  may  note 
her  lip  quiver  when  Arthur  Peel's  face  first  appears  be- 
side that  of  Madame  Z in  the  accustomed  stage  box 

(for  Miss«Lynes  has  quite  failed  in  rendering  him  domes- 
tic) ;  and  she  keeps,  but  never  wears,  the  little  bracelet 
he  first  gave  her ;  and  when  "  the  rain  is  on  the  roof," 
and  she  stands,  at  times,  and  watches  her  children  in  their 
sleep  —  little  lads,  both  of  them  with  the  true  Carew  face 
—  tears  come  in  her  eyes  that  shouldn't  come  there, 
looking  at  so  fair  a  sight. 

"Lady  Feltham  has  really  turned  out  wonderfully!" 
say  her  discriminating  friends.  "  Who  would  ever  have 
expected  to  see  her  so  well-conducted  after  the  mad  way 
she  used  to  run  after  that  scapegrace,  Arthur  Peel  ?" 

And  the  astutest  of  them  all  has  never  guessed  what 
talisman  it  is  that  holds  Lady  Feltham's  frozen  heart  in 
safety. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

BY    FIRELIGHT. 

LORD  FELTHAM  was  recalled,  and  the  trousseau  pro- 
ceeded —  indeed,  it  was  a  daily  occurrence  for  Miss  Lynes 
and  Miss  Dashwood  to  ignore  each  other's  presence,  as 
they  gave  mutual  bridal  commands  at  Howell  and  James', 
and  Elise's ;  and  every  one  thought  Miss  Dashwood  look- 
ing so  well  —  ("  spirits  completely  forced,  my  dear  !  how 
can  it  be  otherwise,  after  all  she's  gone  through  in  that 
foolish  love-affair  of  hers  ?  ")  —  and  the  bridesmaids  were 
engaged,  and  all  but  the  wedding-day  was  fixed. 

And  still,  while  the  marriage  in  which  no  love  was,  ap- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        897 

preached  and  throve  ;  the  love  in  which  was  no  marriage, 
grew  daily  more  hopeless  and  more  strong,  as  is  the  cus- 
tom in  such  things.  Three  weeks  after  Mrs.  Strangways' 
party,  Esther  Fleming  knew  that  Paul  Chichester's  pres- 
ence had  become  her  life ;  his  absence  her  worse  than 
death;  knew  —  honest,  ignorant  Pluron  as  she  was!  — 
that,  but  to  brighten  or  in  any  way  better  the  lot  of  this 
one  poor  and  suspected,  and  littte-thought-of  man  she 
would  rapturously  sacrifice  every  prospect,  hope,  possi- 
bility of  other  happiness  in  her  own. 

Chance  had  thrown  Paul  and  her  together,  in  the  way 
that  it  generally  does  throw  together  any  two  people  who 
would  be  better  kept  apart.  With  Mrs.  Scott  in  the 
house,  any  young  woman  holding  a  dependent  position 
would,  you  may  feel  very  sure,  have  been  well  shielded 
from  all  danger  or  temptation  of  love.  But  only  the  sec- 
ond day  after  Esther's  meeting  with  Paul,  Mrs.  Scott  be- 
thought herself  to  have  fainting-fits ;  and  Marmy,  in  his 
nervous  anxiety  —  for  there  are  responsibilities  which  ren- 
der fools  and  philosophers  alike  akin  and  helpless  —  rushed 
off  for  the  family-surgeon  ;  and  the  family-surgeon  (who 
was  just  going  to  give  his  attendance  for  a  month,  at  a 
hundred  guineas  a  week,  to  Sir  Levy  Leontifiore,  at 
Brighton)  said  nothing  would  save  Mrs.  Scott,  or  the 
expected  heir,  save  the  Brighton  climate.  And  so  to 
Brighton  it  was  promptly  decided  Mrs.  Scott  must  go. 

But  it  would  kill  her,  she  averred,  to  take  Natty.  Nat- 
ty's  screams  pierced  her  head:  Natty's  temper  shattered 
her  nerves :  and,  besides,  what  would  become  of  the  ser- 
vants, unless  Miss  Fleming  was  left  to  look  after  them. 

Jane  and  Mrs.  Dashwood  disliked  each  other  so  cordial- 
ly, that  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  think  of  their  both 
going  to  Brighton  at  the  same  time  —  for  although  she 
was  only  her  step-mother,  and  although  she  didn't  like 
her,  and  though  Marmy  detested  her,  and  though  Mrs. 


398  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Dashwood  had  never  had  any  but  spiritual  experiences 
in  her  life  —  you  know  Millicent  Scott  too  well,  I  hope,  to 
think  that  she  would  have  outraged  society  by  not  hav- 
ing "Mamma"  with  her  at  this  epoch.  Besides,  Jane 
must  stop  in  town  and  look  after  her  trousseau,  if  the 
wedding  really  was  to  be  in  April ;  and  what  would  Jane 
do  without  Miss  Fleming  for  a  companion  ?  Marmy  was, 
by  these  arguments,  reduced  to  seeing  himself  in  the 
light  of  a  brute  and  a  fool  for  having  ever  wished  that 
Natty  should  have  a  few  weeks  of  sea-air ;  and  Esther 
Fleming  was  left  the  possessor  of  the  most  absolute  and, 
at  this  particular  season  of  her  life,  the  most  dangerous 
freedom. 

She  was  upright  to  the  core ;  but  she  was  very  human, 
and  had  all  the  temptations  that  go  with  strong  impulses 
and  strong  affections.  And  early  spring  was  coming  on, 
and  she  knew  it  did  Natty  no  harm  —  nay,  that  it  un- 
froze the  little  old  prematurely-hardened  heart  to  let  her 
roam  abroad  in  Kensington  Gardens,  or  where  they  would, 
with  Polly  the  nurse-girl,  during  the  two  fading  twilight 
hours  of  these  mild  March  days.  That  Paul  Chichester 
came  two,  three,  gradually  four  times  a  week  at  this  hour  ; 
that  Jane  was  almost  always  from  home  when  he  came  ; 
that  she  looked,  that  she  longed  for  his  coming ;  that  day 
by  day,  even  if  their  words  grew  colder,  their  eyes  were 
reading  to  each  other  page  after  page  of  the  old  forbid- 
den story.  Could  she  help  all  this  ? 

She  said  she  could  not ;  and  to  Miss  Dashwood,  and 
even  to  herself,  employed  much  subtle  casuistry  whenever 
the  peril  of  these  visits  was  brought  too  prominently  be- 
fore her  reason.  Mr.  Chichester  came  simply  because  her 
grave,  sober  life  was  in  accord  with  his,  and  that  they 
could  talk  of  subjects  in  which  each  had  the  same  kind 
of  interest.  Talk  ?  — why,  of  what  did  they  talk  ?  Of 
nonsense  —  of  sentiment?  Never.  They  discussed  upon 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  399 

abstract  subjects;  upon  the  harder  duties  of  life ;  upon 
books.  Often  the  greater  part  of  the  visit  would  be  con- 
sumed in  Mr.  Chichester  taking  up  book  after  book  from 
the  drawing-room  table  and  descanting  upon  portions  of 
their  contents  to  her.  "  And  if  it  happens  to  be  poetry, 
Jane  —  Shakspeare  it  generally  is  —  he  somehow  always 
chooses  descriptions  of  scenery,  or  friendship,  or  —  or 
something  of  that  kind ! "  ~No  doubt,  now  she  came  to 
reflect  on  it,  this  was  what  Paul  Chichester  did  come  so 
often  for.  He  liked  reading  aloud  ;  and  she —  well,  she 
thought  it  very  improving  for  a  young  person  who  meant 
to  be  a  teacher,  to  educate  her  ear  and  cadence  by  listen- 
ing to  so  good  a  reader. 

Men  of  a  somewhat  washy  nature  do  occasionally  feel 
the  mere  sentiment  of  love :  men  of  robuster  fibre  know 
as  much  as  is  to  be  known  of  the  mere  passion.  But  the 
union  of  the  two  —  of  purest,  tenderest  sentiment,  of  in- 
tense, vital,  earthly  passion  ;  the  perfect  blending  of  af- 
fection and  desire,  of  heart  and  brain,  of  soul  and  sense 

—  is  never  found,  I  have  no  hesitation  whatever  in  haz- 
arding the  opinion,  save  in  a  woman's  heart,  and  not  in 
more  than  one  out  of  one  thousand  of  these. 

Poor  Esther  was  of  the  salt  of  the  earth.  Her  affec- 
tions large  ;  her  brain  large  ;  her  physique  unexceptiona- 
ble ;  her  whole  life  purely  nurtured.  Just  how  we  can 
imagine  —  when  our  imagination  chances  to  be  very  vivid 

—  that  women  were  once  intended  to  love  men,  she  loved 
Paul.     She  felt  herself  not  his  inferior,  although  so  dif- 
ferent in  mind,  and  yet  she  yearned  to  be  his  slave  !     She 
had    none  of  the   little  jealousy  about  her  own  intellect 
that  she  had  felt  in  the  earlier   stages   of  their  intimacy. 
She  liked  to  talk  well   when   she   talked  with  him.     She 
liked  sometimes  to  be  able  to  differ  from   him  ;  even   to 
bring  him  round  to  her  opinion.     And   then,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  some  discussion  —  perhaps  on  the   origin  of  evil ; 


400  THE  OR'DEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

they  were  fond  of  choosing  this  new  and  easily  settled 
subject  —  she  would  see  that  the  poor  fellow's  shirt  lacked 
a  button,  or  his  threadbare  coat  a  stitch,  and  all  her  heart 
would  go  out  to  him  with  love ;  that  warm,  wide,  wo- 
man's love  that  ever  seems  to  me  to  have  something  of 
maternity  in  its  element ;  and  the  intense,  passionate, 
despairing  wish  that  she  had  the  right  to  minister  to  all 
the  little  common  wants,  so  evidently  neglected  now,  of 
his  life. 

Such  a  friendship  can  never  remain  friendship  long.  You 
may  read  descriptions  of  Platonic  attachment,  descriptions 
of  scenery  and  friendship  written  by  Shakspeare  or  any 
other  poet;  you  may  investigate  the  origin  of  evil  ;  may 
speak  in  measured  voices ;  may  shake  each  other's  hands 
with  icy  shortness  at  going  and  coming.  Nature  will  assert 
herself  still.  When  the  trees  are  full  of  sap  in  April,  it  is 
but  the  accident  of  one  sudden  morning's  heat  that  is 
needed  to  clothe  the  yet  cold  branches  with  the  life  and 
color  of  the  spring. 

One  afternoon,  they  had  spent  three  hours  together  as 
usual ;  and,  the  child  not  having  returned,  and  the  dull 
March  twilight  having  almost  become  darkness,  they  had 
taken,  for  no  reason  that  I  can  assign,  to  standing  one  on 
each  side  of  the  hearth  —  although  the  weather  was  far 
from  chilly  —  and  speaking  scarcely  a  word.  Of  late  Es- 
ther had  avoided  all  such  silence,  flying  instantly  to  the 
commonest  and  most  obvious  subterfuge  —  the  weather, 
Natty's  lessons,  Jane  Dash  wood's  trousseau  —  the  instant 
that  she  felt  one  of  these  insidious  but  deadly  dangers  to 
be  coming  on.  But  in  all  natural  processes  —  one  of 
which  I  hold  the  passion  of  love  to  be  —  you  pass  into 
new  developments  as  completely  without  volition  or  con- 
sciousness of  your  own  as  the  caterpillar  changes  into  the 
chrysalis,  the  chrysalis  into  the  butterfly.  Miss  Fleming 
had  gone  through  the  stage  of  sudden  silences  —  through 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  4Q1 

the  stage  of  feeling  their  danger,  through  the  stage  of 
talking  about  things  for  which  she  cared  nothing,  to  avert 
that  danger.  This  afternoon  her  condition  had  progressed 
by  one  more  step.  She  knew  that  they  were  both  silent, 
that  such  silence  was  dangerous,  that  the  danger  could  be 
averted,  temporarily,  by  conversation  of  any  kind ;  and 
she  attempted  conversation  of  no  kind!  Only  stood, 
with  cold,  clasped  hands,  and  perfectly  rigid  stiffness,  and 
knew  that  Paul's  eyes  scarcely  left  her  face  a  moment,  and 
that  she  could  feel  —  could  almost  hear — every  sicken- 
ing, distinct  beat  of  her  own  feverish  heart. 

It  was  decidedly  another  step  :  another,  and  very  near- 
ly the  last.  I  know  of  only  two  possible  further  develop- 
ments for  love  that  has  become  passion  and  that  has  ceas- 
ed to  straggle.  Only  two :  and  the  story  of  nearly  all 
our  lives  can  be  written  in  this  very  short  sentence  :  pos- 
session, or  an  irrevocable  severance  ;  no  return  along  that 
road  whose  upward  transit  was  so  sweet ;  no  return  to 
the  pleasant  resting-places,  the  tranquil  hours,  the  dreams 
—  better  than  all  fruition  —  of  that  delicious  pilgrimage. 
Love  that  has  become  passion  and  that  has  ceased  to 
struggle  must  end  in  one  of  these  two — possession  or 
severance. 

And  in  either,  broadly  speaking,  love  dies.  And  love 
is  human  youth,  and  human  hope,  and- human  happiness  : 
all  that,  during  the  brightest  years,  at  least,  of  our  exist- 
ence we  sum  up  whenever  the  word  "  life  "  is  on  our  lips. 

Paul  was  the  first  to  speak.  He  chose  for  his  subject 
one  concerning  which  he  had  never  spoken  to  her  before 
—  Lord  Feltham's  character. 

"No;  I  shall  not  be  able  to  see  you  so  often  after  his 
return,  Miss  Fleming.  Jane  Dashwood  has  told  you  of 
course,  upon  what  terms  I  stand  with  my  mother's  fami- 
ly ?" 

"  She  has  told  me  that  you  and  your  brother  do  not 


402  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

meet,  Mr.  Chichester;  and  I  think  no  better  of  you  for 
allowing  such  an  enstrangement  to  exist.  What  can 
there  be  in  Lord  Feltham  to  make  you  cherish  such  a 
bitter  feeling  after  so  many  years  ?  " 

"  In  Feltham  himself,  nothing." 

"  You  admire  your  brother's  character,  then  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  dare  say  he  is  quite  as  good  a  fellow  as 
circumstances  have  let  him  be.  He  is  weak  and  unambi- 
tious, doubtless :  but  what  can  you  expect  from  a  man 
whom  fortune  places  at  the  winning-post  without  the 
trouble  of  the  race,  who  has  never  had  the  slightest  train- 
ing, either  by  disappointment  or  any  other  kind  of  moral 
discipline  ?  " 

"I  think  a  man's  own  nature  should  make  him  strong," 
Esther  answered,  promptly ;  for  even  yet  she  had  not 
wholly  outlived  her  bitterness  against  poor  Oliver.  "  I 
don't  think  a  man  should  need  training  of  an  especial 
kind  to  bring  out  the  common  qualities  of  manliness  and 
honesty  in  his  heart." 

"  Easily  said,  Miss  Fleming ;  but,  depend  upon  it,  con- 
tinued worship  and  flattery  from  nurses,  tutors,  compan- 
ions, the  whole  world,  from  one's  cradle  to  one's  dotage, 
are  perils  that  may  warp  any  but  the  noblest  natural  cha- 
racter, and  that  Feltham  never  had.  From  what  I  re- 
member of  him  as  a  child,  I  should  say  he  will  get  on  ex- 
cellently well  in  the  position  to  which  it  has  pleased  God 
to  call  him,  and  will  make  Miss  Dash  wood  quite  as  happy 
as  she  deserves." 

"Oh,  no  doubt,"  no  doubt,  said  Esther,  hastily.  "It 
is  not  in  Lord  Feltham  to  feel  any  very  high  or  exalt- 
ed sentiments." 

"  Miss  Fleming,  do  you  know  my  brother  ?  " 

She  had  never  meant  to  tell  him  or  any  other  creature 
living  of  her  engagement  to  Oliver ;  but  during  the  last 
few  days  a  strong  impulse  had  been  upon  her  to  let  Paul 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  4Q3 

Chichester  know  everything  that  her  life  had  to  tell. 
Not,  God  knows  !  from  forwardness,  from  any  hope  of 
gaining  him  in  marriage  r  did  she  not  know  that  to  be 
hopeless  ?  but  rather  from  a  despairing,  instinctive  sense 
that  a  great  crisis  —  the  crisis  of  parting — was  coming 
on ;  a  desire  that  as  much  of  her  as  any  man  should  ever 
possess  —  all  the  history  of  her  poor  foolish  life  should  be 
given  to  him  before  that  hour  came.  This,  and,  perhaps, 
with  the  sublime  inconsistency  of  love,  the  latent  hope 
that  it  would,  it  must,  touch  him  to  know  how  willingly 
she  had  given  up  rank  and  wealth  and  position  where  she 
herself  could  not  give  love  in  return. 

"  I  have  known  your  brother.  I  have  known  him  very 
well."  And  then,  in  broken  sentences,  as  you  may  believe, 
with  hesitation,  with  need  of  frequent  questioning  from 
her  companion,  all  the  story  was  told. 

As  she  faltered  out  the  last  words  of  her  confession, 
she  took  courage  and  looked  up  into  Paul's  face.  The 
firelight  shone  upon  it  full :  she  could  not,  she  could  not  be 
mistaken  in  what  she  read  there.  Never  during  these 
three  weeks  had  one  quiver  of  a  muscle,  one  flush,  one 
pallor  on  that  determined  face  given  her  even  a  moment's 
respite  from  reason  ;  but  now  —  no,  she  was  not  mistaken 
—  all  Paul  Chichester's  face  was  soft  as  she  had  never 
seen  it  before ;  only  as  in  dreams  her  fancy  had  so  often 
cruelly  shown  it  to  her.  The  hardness  had  gone  from  his 
mouth,  the  lines  from  his  brow :  not  alone  his  expression, 
his  very  features  seemed  changed  —  younger,  handsomer, 
fuller  of  life. 

"  You  never  loved  him,  Esther  ?  Tell  me  perfectly, 
honestly." 

"  If  I  had,  I  shouldn't  have  changed,  Mr.  Chichester. 
I  am  not  a  woman  to  love  more  than  once  while  I  live." 

And  then  she  shrank  back  fearfully,  and  turned  her 
face  quite  away  from  him  towards  the  fire. 


404  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Paul  Chichester  looked  at  her  drooping  profile,  and 
knew  that  she  was  his  —  his  now,  his  always ;  yes,  what- 
ever should  hereafter  divorce  them,  whatever  man  should 
some  day  call  her  wife.  He  did  not  love  her  as  she  loved 
him.  Men  don't  feel  strong,  blind,  reasonless  passion  for 
women  of  poor  Esther's  worth  ;  but  he  knew  that  to  pos- 
sess her  for  his  companion  would  be  to  raise  his  darkened 
existence  into  vivid,  healthy  life ;  he  knew  (and  this  to  a 
man  is  a  great  deal  more  than  any  love  of  his  own)  that 
she  worshipped  him ;  that  for  the  freedom  hopelessly  to 
worship,  she  had  given  up  the  position  and  money  and 
youth  that  his  brother  had  to  bestow  upon  her.  And 
noble  though  Paul's  heart  was  to  the  core,  he  was  not  at 
all  superhuman  in  his  nobility.  The  wealth,  the  position 
of  his  alienated  family  had  been  bitter  drops  in  his  cup  ; 
and  it  was  sweet,  yes,  sweeter  than  pure  unmixed  love 
itself,  to  know  that  for  him,  poor,  friendless,  outcast,  a 
woman  like  Esther  Fleming  had  thrown  their  wealth 
aside  as  worthless  dross. 

And  as  he  felt  all  this,  and  as  he  looked  at  her  pure  and 
steadfast  face,  and  as  he  yearned  to  go  to  her  and  clasp 
her  to  his  breast  and  bid  her  stay  there,  a  cold  whisper 
shuddered  in  his  ears,  a  white  face  rose  before  him,  and 
one  terrible  word  —  a  word  it  was  not  in  him  to  disobey 
—  rang  through  every  fibre  of  his  heart  —  duty  !  Duty, 
with 'which  no  inclination  went  hand-in-hand.  Duty,  not 
to  a  woman  possessing  youth  and  strength  and  beauty, 
like  this  one,  but  to  a  poor,  bereft,  forsaken  creature, 
whose  life,  by  hardest  fate,  must  be  bound  horribly  close 
to  his,  and  yet  whole  dreary  worlds  apart,  so  long  as  they 
both  should  live. 

Rigidly  just  natures  are  prone,  by  virtue  of  their  very 
consistency,  to  fall  into  injustice.  We  don't  stop  still, 
such  persons  fail  to  remember ;  we  live.  If  we  were  in 
the  position  of  bricks,  well  imbedded  by  mortar  in  a  stone 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         4Q5 

wall,  an  action  right  for  us  once  must  be  right  ten  years 
later,  twenty  years  later,  always.  But,  instead  of  stop- 
ping, we  not  only  live  but  change  in  our  own  natures,  just 
as  much  as  in  the  outward  circumstances  of  our  lot. 
Thus,  a  really  noble  action,  an  impulse  straight  from  the 
heart  of  a  lad  of  twenty,  will,  if  carried  out  through  ten 
or  fifteen  years  of  life,  most  probably  degenerate  into 
persistent  folly,  or,  which  is  worse,  mechanical,  outside 
ceremonial,  without  the  faintest  reason  or  necessity  for  its 
fulfillment.  At  twenty,  Paul's  heart  had  revolted  against 
what  he  considered  the  inhumanity  of  cold,  worldly  sense  ; 
and  it  was  heroic  of  him  then  to  take  up  the  position  he 
did.  At  thirty,  his  life  had  narrowed  and  narrowed  under 
the  dead  pressure  of  one  self-inflicted  duty,  until  he  had 
quite  forgotten  to  ask  himself  if  this  indeed  was  justice  ? 
If  his  own  body  and  soul  had  no  real  claim  upon  him  ?  if 
duty  might  not  now  consist  in  breaking  free  from  the 
trammels  in  which  for  ten  long  years  he  had  walked  with 
bleeding,  but  as  yet  unfaltering  feet  ? 

I  say,  no  light  of  the  kind  had  as  yet  dawned  across 
the  one  fixed  purpose  of  Paul's  life.  If  it  was  ever  to  do 
so,  now  was  the  last  moment  when  he  would  have  given 
it  admittance.  He  might  alter  deliberately,  through  rea- 
son —  never  swerve  in  a  moment  of  sudden  temptation 
or  sudden  passion. 

"  You  can  only  love  once  in  your  life  ?  A  mistake, 
child,  a  great  mistake.  When  you  have  lived  longer, 
when  you  have  felt  more,  you  will  know  how  wonderfully 
elastic  your  heart  is,  above  all,  in  its  capacities  for  suffer- 
ing. We  have  never  quite  done  with  any  hope  or  any 
misery  until  we  die.  A  year  ago  I  thought,  honestly,  I 
should  never  know  anything  more  about  human  love  of 
any  kind  while  I  lived,  and  now " 

He  stopped  himself  short ;  then  he  came  suddenly  clos- 
er ;  he  put  his  arm  half  round,  but  yet  not  clasping,  her 


406  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

shrinking  figure  as  she  stood  neither  daring  to  answer  nor 
to  look  into  his  face. 

"  Esther,  I  won't  deny  to  you  that  I  have  felt  pleasure 
in  hearing  that  you  wouldn't  marry  Oliver,  in  spite  of  all 
the  worldly  advantages  he  had  to  offer  you.  I  don't,  I 
can't  be  blind,  child,  to  your  kindly  liking  for  me.  Es- 
ther, you're  the  only  woman  I  ever  desired  to  possess  as 
my  wife.  If  I  was  free  to  do  so,  I  would  give  up  my  life 
to  make  you  happy;  but  I  am  not  free  —  I  never  shall 
be  —  and  I  feel  to-night  that  I  am  not  safe  in  coming 
any  more  to  see  you  like  this.  I  thought,  three  weeks 
ago,  I  should  be,"  he  went  on  hurriedly,  for  at  this 
juncture  something  very  like  a  stifled  sob  broke  from 
Miss  Fleming's  lips.  "I  thought  I  was  stronger  than  I 
am,  and  that  I  could  bear  to  look  in  your  face,  and  listen 
to  your  voice  ;  and  know  that  now  and  for  ever  I  must 
be  no  more  than  a  stranger  to  you.  I  find  that  I  cannot 
do  so  ;  and  I  had  best  stay  away  from  you  till  my  folly  is 
cured.  Esther,  will  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

For  a  minute  pride,  wounded  vanity,  resentment,  stirred 
in  her  breast ;  and  she  looked  at  him  coldly,  and  drew 
away  from  the  cruel,  mocking  temptation  of  his  half- 
embrace.  Then  a  love,  mightier  than  all  pride  or  vanity 
or  resentment,  ebbed  back,  with  a  sudden  rush,  across 
that  generous  heart.  She  clasped  hold  of  the  hand  he 
offered  her ;  she  looked  straight  into  his  eyes.  "  I've 
nothing  to  forgive,  Mr.  Chichester.  You  have  made  me 
happy  by  what  you  said  —  I  never  hoped  for  any  more. 
And  don't  stay  away  forever,  please.  I  mean  —  I  mean 
I  don't  think  I  could  bear  it  if  I  thought  you  and  I 
wouldn't  be  friends  as  long  as  we  live!  " 

It  was  a  love  stronger  than  death,  the  love  of  this  poor, 
untutored,  country  girl. 

As  Paul  Chichester  walked  away  from  the  house  that 
night,  the  image  of  her  faithful  face,  the  sound  of  her 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         4Q7 

pleading  voice,  haunted  him  with  a  strange  sense  of  self- 
reproach  ;  and  then,  for  the  first  time  these  ten  years, 
the  possibility  of  his  own  freedom,  of  his  own  return 
with  honor  to  life  and  love,  did  flash,  dimly  and  indis- 
tinctly as  yet,  across  his  mind. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

BY    GAS    LIGHT. 

BUT  he  came  to  visit  her  no  more.  He  wrote  her  a 
note  next  morning — which,  with  all  other  relics  of  that 
time,  will,  I  doubt  not,  lie  upon  Esther's  breast  when  she 
is  in  her  coffin  — recapitulating,  in  a  few  kind  words,  the 
reasons  for  keeping  apart  that  he  had  given  her  the  night 
before  ;  adding,  too  —  was  it  possible  for  him  to  do  other- 
wise ? —  some  expressions  of  the  infinite  pain  the  sever- 
ance must  cost  himself.  But  this  was  all.  He  gave  no 
sign  of  relenting  or  of  change.  He  came  to  visit  her  no 
more. 

She  knew  then  that  her  dream  was  definitely  over.  Of 
marriage  she  had  long  since  ceased  to  think  ;  but  love,  but 
friendship,  but  all  of  Paul  was  riven  from  her  now.  She 
knew  this ;  and  she  suffered  with  that  triple-fold  agony 
that  only  very  exceptional  natures  like  hers  are  capable 
of.  She  yearned  for  Paul  (does  any  word  but  that  ex- 
press the  part  that  the  soul  plays  in  human  passion  ?) 
She  brooded  ovor  the  thought  of  him  day  and  night  and 
hourly,  with  a  stronger  appreciation  of  his  worth  and  of 
the  fitness  there  was  in  herself  to  be  his  companion.  She 
sorrowed  for  him  with  that  purely  physical  sensation 
which  the  great  materialist  philosopher  defined  as  the  ir- 


408  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

ritable  condition  of  certain  nerves  closely  connected  alike 
with  the  digestive  organs  and  with  the  brain. 

Women  of  weaker  temperament  exhaust  themselves  in 
one  of  those  forms  only  —  make  a  religion  of  their  grief j  or 
a  sentiment ;  or,  more  frequently  still,  only  a  source  of 
bodily  disease  to  themselves.  Esther  Fleming  did  all 
three,  in  her  own  robust,  uncivilized  fashion,  and  (liker  to 
a  savage  still)  she  gave  no  moan  under  her  sufferings. 
Her  cheeks  were  white,  her  sleep  no  sleep,  her  meals  un- 
eaten ;  but  who  was  there  to  notice  these  things  in  a  per- 
son holding  such  a  position  as  hers  ?  Natty,  finding  her 
lessons  more  negligently  attended  to,  began  to  have  la- 
tent suspicions  that  she  had  misjudged  Miss  Fleming ; 
and  that,  after  all,  her  present  governess  would  turn  out 
just  as  pleasantly  neglectful  as  all  former  bonnes  and 
nurses  had  been.  Jane,  in  hourly  entanglements  of  white 
silk  and  lace,  and  hopes  of  crushing  and  eclipsing  Miss 
Lynes,  would  have  noticed  nothing  short  of  positive  ill- 
ness in  anybody  unconnected  with  millinery.  And  these 
were  the  two  human  souls  in  London  who  took  the  most 
real  interest  in  Esther  Fleming's  life. 

She  felt,  at  first,  that  there  was  a  signal  injustice  in  her 
disappointment  making  so  little  change  to  the  world. 
Every  sense  and  sound  of  common  life  jarred  on  her  al- 
most with  a  rough  actual  pain.  Miss  Dashwood's  self- 
engrossed  conversation,  the  child's  merry  play,  the  very 
sight  of  the  servants  at  their  work,  or  of  the  people  pass- 
ing along  the  streets,  was  inexpressibly  irksome  to  her. 

We  would  never  in  youth  have  the  sun  to  shine  upon  the 
faces  of  our  dead.  We  would  have  the  heartless  spirits 
of  the  whole  world  crushed  so  that  they  might  not  mock 
us  in  our  first,  new,  overwhelming  taste  of  the  reality  of 
sorrow.  And  the  sun  shines  deep  down  into  the  grave 
where  our  firstborn  is  to  lie  before  night :  and  the  great 
world ;  and,  which  is  bitterer,  our  own  small  section  of 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        409 

the  world  gets  up,  and  hopes,  and  rejoices,  just  the  same 
upon  the  day  when  we  learn  that  we  are  to  stand  from 
henceforth  outside  all  hope  and  all  rejoicing !  Later  on 
in  life  (when  the  sun  has  shone  into  a  great  many  graves 
since  that  little  unforgotten  first  one,)  we  turn  with  a 
dreary  stoicism,  or  perhaps  with  truer  philosophy,  to  the 
thought  that  others  are  rejoicing  who  have  once  mourned 
like  us ;  even  as  we  shall  one  day  stand  at  a  marriage- 
feast  while  they  are  occupied  in  the  preparation  of  their 
funeral-meats.  But  Esther  was  at  an  age  still  to  hug  her 
grief  with  passion  ;  to  turn  from  every  thought  of  com- 
fort ;  to  quarrel  with  the  whole  universe  because  it  show- 
ed no  immediate  sympathy  with  Paul  and  herself. 

"  You  really  should  try  to  write  in  a  more  lively  style," 
was  Millicent's  reply  to  one  of  the  curt,  formal  letters  she 
forced  herself  to  write  about  the  house  and  the  servants. 
"  The  doctor  says  it  is  very  bad  for  me  not  to  have  my 
spirits  constantly  amused." 

"  I  hope  you'll  get  up  your  color  again  soon,  Esther," 
said  Miss  Dash  wood.  "  I  have  set  my  heart  upon  hav- 
ing every  one  of  my  bridesmaids  handsome,  if  its  only 
to  make  a  contrast  to  Mrs.  Peel's." 

"Do  play  louder,  Miss  Fleming,"  cried  Natty.  "I 
want  you  to  run  about  on  your  hands  and  knees  and 
bark,  while  I  do  the  man  in  Punch."  , 

These  are  specimens  of  the  kind  of  sympathy  she  re- 
ceived. 

Sympathy,  if  she  had  got  it,  would  have  done  her  no 
good.  Would  time  ?  She  asked  herself  this,  one  gloomy 
afternoon,  as  she  sat  alone,  as  usual,  brooding  over  her 
never-dying  pain  in  the  silent  room  where  she  had  heard 
Paul's  voice  last.  Would  time  enable  her  to  live  down, 
or  live  out,  her  love  and  her  misery  together?  Ten  years 
hence,  when  she  was  thirty,  a  middle-aged  woman,  would 
she  come,  like  Joan,  to  feel  a  hard,  loveless  interest  in 
18 


410  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

the  common  things  of  life  ?  To  rise  every  morning  with 
no  particular  hope,  and  go  to  rest  with  no  particular  dis- 
appointment. Oh,  if  such  a  time  was  indeed  to  come, 
that  she  could  get  over  those  intermediate  years !  that 
she  could  be  old  and  callous  without  consciously  going 
through  the  fearful  intervening  process  of  ossification ! 

She  rose,  she  walked  to  the  window  and  looked  out  on 
the  square ;  dull  and  dark  and  silent  as  it  befits  a  respec- 
table London  square  to  be;  and  standing  there,  listening 
to  the  patter  of  the  rain  upon  the  pavement,  and  gazing 
listlessly  at  the  hurrying  forms  of  the  occasional  passers- 
by,  a  sudden  remembrance  come  across  her  mind  —  it 
was  a  Saturday;  a  day  on  which  Paul  always  passed  a 
certain  crossing  into  Oxford  street,  about  two  miles  dis- 
tant from  the  Scotts'  house,  at  five  in  the  afternoon.  She 
knew  this  fact  well;  first,  from  his  having  explained  to  her 
that  Saturday  was  a  day  on  which  his  visit  to  her  must 
always  be  later  than  usual;  secondly,  because  she  had  one 
afternoon  chanced  to  meet  him  when  she  was  walking 
along  Oxford  street,  with  the  child,  and  he  had  said, 
laughingly,  "If  ever  you  want  me  on  a  sudden  mission  of 
life  or  death,  and  it  should  chance  to  be  Wednesday  or 
Saturday,  you  would  be  as  certain  to  meet  me  at  this  par- 
ticular spot  at  this  hour,  as  you  would  be  of  seeing  the 
clock  over  the  post-office  yonder.  I  have  gone  this  road 
for  more  than  three  years,  and  never  remember  being  at 
the  crossing  more  than  ten  minutes  late  during  that  time." 

The  remembrance  of  the  fact  came  suddenly  across  her 
mind ;  and  with  it  a  wild,  a  reasonless  impulse  to  start 
abroad  in  the  cold  and  gloom  and  rain  upon  the  chance 
of  seeing  him.  Miss  Dash  wood  was  out;  the  child  was 
spending  the  day  with  some  friends ;  no  one  would 
want  her,  would  miss  her,  and  Paul  would  be  utterly  un- 
conscious of  her  presence.  It  was  scarcely  past  four  now. 
If  she  started  at  once  she  would  be  there  long  before  he 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  4H 

could  by  possibility  pass ;  would  take  shelter  in  a  station- 
ers shop  which  she  recollected,  and  watch  him,  unseen,  as 
he  went  by.  A  dreary  comfort,  enough  ;  but  something  — 
something  to  stand  between  her  and  a  certain  horrible 
symptom  of  whose  presence  during  the  last  forty-eight 
hours  she  had  been  vaguely  conscious  in  her  mind  —  a 
dull,  leaden  incapacity  to  think  or  feel  or  suffer;  a  loath- 
ing of  life,  an  absence  of  desire  even  to  return  to  happier 
things.  Better  see  Paul's  face  again,  better  revivify  the 
old  tortures  at  their  worst  than  give  way  to  this. 

She  dressed  herself,  forgetful  of  the  rain,  in  a  light 
cloak  and  her  usual  little  thin  schoolroom  dress,  and  then 
started,  in  a  bitter  cold  wind  and  with  the  rain  driving 
sheer  in  her  face,  upon  her  errand.  When  she  got  to  the 
end  of  her  walk  it  was  still  a  quarter  to  five ;  and  as 
she  was  ashamed  to  remain  too  long  with  no  ostensible 
object  in  the  shop,  she  walked  up  and  down  until  indeed 
she  was  thoroughly  wet  to  the  skin,  for  the  rain  was 
pouring  now,  until  five  minutes  to  five.  Then  with  that 
extraordinary  sense  of  guilt  of  which  most  of  us  are  sus- 
ceptible when  we  are  not  going  to  commit  anything 
wrong,  she  walked  into  the  shop. 

The  girl  behind  the  counter  eyed  her  sourly  as  she  en- 
tered, bringing  with  her  the  cold,  .clinging  fog  of  the 
street,  and  desired  her,  tartly,  to  observe  that  there  was  a 
stand  for  umbrellas  at  the  door. 

"  I  am  very  wet  and  1  should  be  glad  to  have  shelter 
for  a  few  minutes,"  Esther  stammered,  with  all  the  con- 
scious shame  of  a  tongue  unversed  in  artifice.  "  And  I 
want  a  copy-book  and  some  pens,  and  a  bottle  of  ink  — 
blue  ink,  if  you  please." 

Now,  the  shop  woman  knew  as  well  as  she  knew  herself 
that  the  girl  came  into  the  shop  with  intentions  respect- 
ing something  or  some  person  unconnected  with  stationery. 
Still,  a  customer  is  a  customer ;  and  London  shopkeepers 


412  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

are  whole  worlds  beyond  the  capacity  for  curiosity  in 
any  matter  not  directly  affecting  their  own  interest.  In 
a  country  town  a  woman  thus  placed  must,  by  a  law  of 
her  nature,  have  asked  questions :  the  Londoner,  her  first 
disgust  at  the  damp  over,  just  produced  the  copy-book, 
pens,  and  blue  ink,  and  lapsed  back  into  indifference  over 
her  embroidery.  If  the  girl  had  fallen  down  in  a  fit,  or 
fallen  dead,  or  stayed  five  minutes,  or  an  hour,  or  indeed 
any  time  short  of  the  period  at  which  the  gas  was  turned 
off,  she  could  scarce  have  brought  her  mind  up  to  the 
exertion  of  thinking  of  her  again. 

Five  o'clock  struck,  and  then  the  quarter  past  five  ;  and 
then  the  fog  thickened  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  dis- 
cern the  features  even  of  the  nearest  passers-by  ;  and  then 
the  sickening  thought  came  upon  Esther  that  Paul  must 
have  past  without  her  seeing  him,  and  that  all  that  remain- 
ed for  her  was  to  go  home  again.  She  was  bodily  weak ; 
had  scarcely  eaten  anything  all  day ;  and  in  addition  to 
her  disappointment  a  chill  of  childish  terror  overcame 
her  at  the  thought  of  having  to  walk  alone  through  the 
crowded  desolation  of  London  streets.  In  all  her  life 
she  had  never  so  realized  that  state  which  the  Germans 
happily  term  "  God-forsaken  "  as  at  this  moment.  She 
was  too  thoroughly  beaten  for  any  of  the  old  instincts  ot 
pride  to  come  to  her  help ;  too  bodily  miserable,  too  cold, 
too  wet,  too  weak,  to  be  conscious  of  the  unreasonable- 
ness of  her  despair.  In  fact,  she  had  walked  a  mile  or  two 
through  the  rain  to  see  a  certain  human  face;  and  had 
missed  seeing  it :  and  now  had  just  to  walk  home  again 
to  a  good  dinner,  and  good  fire,  and  every  other  crea- 
ture comfort  of  life.  But  in  imagination,  she  had  rous-  • 
ed  herself  by  strong  endeavors  into  making  one  more 
effort  at  seeing  the  only  thing  she  desired  to  live  for  ;  and 
had  missed  it ;  and  there  was  nothing  more  to  make  her 
hold  on  to  this  wretched  mockery  of  life !  And  one  of 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         413 

the  grand  characteristics  of  the  disorder  of  love  is  that 
all  its  greatest  tortures,  like  its  greatest  enjoyments,  are 
those  which  the  sufferer's  own  imagination  coins.  Hence 
the  reason  why  they  are  so  far  worse  to  bear  than  those 
of  other  passions.  For  in  imagination  not  the  body  only, 
not  the  mind  suffers;  but  the  soul  —  ourself!  That 
which  one  day  we  can  conceive  of  as  enjoying  or  as  suffer- 
ing in  an  entirely  different  state  to  this  unequal  partner- 
ship in  which  it  is  now  involved. 

Among  the  beautiful  fancies  which  so  many  of  the  old 
Catholic  legends  unfold,  none  is,  I  think,  more  beautiful 
than  the  well-known  image  of  what  shall  constitute  hell. 
"  For  in  this  is  hell :  that,  after  the  dissolution  of  this 
earthly  body,  the  soul  shall  straightway  be  drawn  upward 
towards  God,  and  shall  see  Him  and  feel  His  presence ; 
and  then,  when  she  has  tasted  to  the  full  the  exceeding 
rapture  of  love,  shall  be  severed  from  all  love  and  all  light 
for  evermore." 

Of  such  a  hell  most  of  us  have  had  some  foretaste 
through  the  medium  of  our  earthly  desires.  Esther  Flem- 
ing experienced  its  very  dregs  of  bitterness  now,  when 
after  the  short-lived,  pictured  rapture  of  seeing  Paul,  she 
had  got  outside  the  shop  door  and  stood  a  second  irreso- 
lute, with  the  cold  wet  wind  beating  cruelly  in  her  face, 
before  she  could  summon  up  courage  enough  to  make  her 
way  home  along  the  dark,  and  by  this  time  crowded,  pave- 
ment. 

"Esther!"  said  a  voice  close  behind  her  ear,  as  she 
stood  there  shrinking  and  irresolute.  "  Child  !  what,  in 
God's  name,  brings  you  here  at  such  an  hour  ?  " 

Had  a  ray  of  warm,  delicious  light  direct  from  heaven, 
had  the  ecstacy  of  gazing  upon  an  angel's  face  been  sud- 
denly vouchsafed  to  one  of  the  saints  of  old,  some  win- 
ter's midnight,  in  his  icy,  barren  cell,  it  could  scarce  have 
flooded  his  heart  with  rapture  greater  than  that  which 


414  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

smote  Miss  Fleming's  frozen  breast  as  she  heard  Paul's 
voice.  From  darkness  to  light,  from  cold  to  warmth, 
from  absence,  from  despair  to  him !  It  was  a  sudden 
break  from  heaven  :  I  used  no  metaphor.  The  nearest  ap- 
proach to  a  foretaste  (or  a  recollection)  of  another  state 
than  any  of  us  can  ever  know.  And  in  the  instinctive 
bound  of  all  human  hearts  in  moments  of  intense  human 
passion  like  this ;  in  the  sudden  involuntary  rush  of 
thankfulness  —  we  know  not  to  whom !  —  in  the  realiza- 
tion, for  about  twenty  seconds,  of  our  own  capacity  for  in- 
finite happiness,  is  an  indirect  evidence  of  God  and  of  the 
godlike  within  us,  which  I  really  think  metaphysicians 
have  too  much  neglected. 

Twenty  seconds  —  Esther's  beatitude  lasted  no  longer. 
Then  came  reality  ;  burning  humiliation  that  Paul  should 
have  seen  her ;  burning  shame  for  the  words  in  which, 
unless  she  took  refuge  in  direct  falsehood,  she  must  explain 
being  met  in  such  a  position. 

"  I  came  out  too  late,"  she  stammered.  "  I  wanted  a 
copy-book  for  Natty,"  and  I  took  shelter  here,  and  I  think 
it  got  very  suddenly  dark  to-night." 

He  did  not  reply  by  one  word  ;  but  he  took  her  hand, 
drew  it  quietly  within  his  arm,  and  walked  on  with  her 
down  the  street.  When  they  had  gone  about  a  dozen 
yards,  he  led  her  under  a  large  projecting  portico,  which 
at  once  formed  a  protection  from  the  weather,  and  also, 
owing  to  the  house  being  empty  and  the  door  un.ligb.ted, 
from  the  observation  of  the  passers-by. 

"  Esther,  are  you  aware  that  it  is  raining  hard  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  it :  I  shall  soon  be  home." 

"  Do  you  know,"  laying  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder, 
"  that  you  are  in  a  poor,  wretched  little  cloak,  and  that 
you  are  wet  through  ?  " 

"Not  —  not  quite,  I  think,  sir." 

"Do  you  know,"  taking  her  cold,  gloveless  hand  in 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  415 

both  of  his,  "  that  you  are  chilled  to  the  very  bone,  and 
that  if  you  are  not  laid  up  with  fever  to-morrow  it  will 
be  no  fault  of  yours  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  it  would  matter  much  if  I  was  ;  but  I 
ahall  not  be  ;  I'm  not  going  to  be  ill." 

"Do  you  know  that  it  is  dangerous,  that  it  is  wrong, 
for  a  girl  of  your  age  to  wander  about  alone  in  the  streets 
of  London  at  such  an  hour  ?  " 

She  was  silent :  but  she  tried,  quite  in  vain,  to  take  her 
hand  away  from  him. 

"  Esther,  what  did  you  come  out  here  for  to-night  ?  " 

No  answer. 

"  Esther,  what  did  you  come  for  ?  Will  you  tell  me, 
or  will  you  let  me  guess  ?  " 

She  was  stonily  silent  for  a  minute  or  two  —  as  was  her 
custom  always  before  the  overflow  of  any  strong  emotion 
—  then  out  it  came.  "  I  thought  I'd  see  you  once  more, 
and  I  waited  and  you  didn't  pass,  and  I  thought  I  had 
missed  you,  Mr.  Chichester."  And  then  a  stifled  sob. 

There  was  an  ominous  silence  for  two  or  three  minutes  ; 
after  which  an  empty  cab  happened  to  drive  slowly  down 
the  street  in  their  direction,  and  Mr.  Chichester  hailed  it. 
"  You  had  better  let  me  see  you  home,"  he  remarked, 
after  he  had  placed  Esther  inside  ;  "  it  is  too  late  for  you 
to  go  alone."  And  as  she  neither  said  yes  nor  no,  he  got 
in  beside  her,  and  they  drove  off. 

"  Poor,  little,  cold  hands  !  "  said  Paul ;  and  he  took  one 
of  them  in  his  again ;  "  poor,  little,  kind,  patient  face, 
that  would  brave  cold,  and  rain,  and  darkness  for  my 
sake !  " 

And  he  kissed  her. 

"  Esther,"  after  a  minute  or  two,  "  I  have  told  you, 
cruel  times  enough,  that  I  can't  marry  you.  I  don't 
repeat  it  now,  because"  —  and  here  Paul's  own  voice  fal- 
tered — "  because,  child,  now  that  I  see  what  kind  of 


416  THE,  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

materials  your  love  and  your  character  are  made  of,  I 
scarce  know  what  is  honor  and  what  is  duty  for  me.  But 
I  swear  one  thing,  from  this  night  forth  the  choice  shall 
rest  with  you.  I'll  not  leave  you  again,  never  fear  that ! 
You  shall  know  all  my  life,  and  such  as  it  is  my  life  is 
yours." 

I  don't  think  all  men  would  take  this  tone  at  the 
precise  moment  when  a  woman  had  compromised  herself 
irrevocably  for  their  sake  ;  but  you  must  remember  Paul 
was  not  a  man  of  the  world,  and  also  that  there  was  a 
decided  taint  of  eccentricity  in  the  Chichester  blood. 

"  The  choice  mine  ?  Oh,  Mr.  Chichester  !  how  can  that 
ever  be  ?  I  know  you  can't  marry  me,  and  I  submit  to  it. 
All  I  wish  is  that  we  should  remain  friends,  and  that  when 
I  go  back  home  you  should  write  to  me  —  once  or  twice 
in  a  month,  perhaps,  at  first." 

"  Esther,"  drawing  her  closer  to  his  side,  "  do  you  mean 
what  you  say  ?  Would  a  cold  compact  of  friendship 
really  make  you  happy  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  spoke  of  happiness  at  all,  Mr.  Chiches- 
ter. I'm  not  likely  to  be  very  happy  while  I  live." 

"  Are  you  not  happy  now  ?  " 

"  Sir,  I  am  frightened !  I  wish  I  was  at  home  with 
Jane." 

He  let  go  her  hand  ;  he  took  his  arm  from  round  her 
instantly.  "  You  will  be  home  with  Jane  directly,  and  you 
will  then,  at  my  request,  go  straight  to  your  bed,  and  try 
to  sleep.  With  a  weaker  constitution  than  yours,  such 
an  escapade  as  the  one  you  have  thought  fit  to  engage  in 
to-night  might  cost  a  brain  fever,  but  I  am  not  afraid  of 
you.  Esther,"  after  a  minute,  "  do  you  consider  yourself 
engaged  to  me  ?  " 

"  No,  Mr.  Chichester ;  I  do  not,  indeed.  I  know  very 
well  that  I  am  not." 

"I'm  not  certain  of  it  myself;  but  we  shall  both  be 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        417 

surer  on  the  point  in  a  few  days.  Miss  Fleming,  have  I 
ever  told  you  where  I  live  ?  " 

"  You  have  not.  You  have  put  rne  down,  consistently, 
whenever  I  have  even  tried  remotely  to  find  out." 

"  Then  I  will  tell  you  now.     I  live  in  St.  John's  Wood 

—  Richmond  Cottages  ;  —  no,  you  will  never  remember 
all  that.     I'll  give  you  the  written  address  when  the  cab 
stops.     Will  you  come  and  pay  ine  a  visit  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  That  is  right.  You  put  on  no  conventional  affecta- 
tion, because  you  know  I  wouldn't  ask  you  to  do  a  thing 
that  would  really  harm  you.  Come,  let  me  see  ;  Sunday 

—  Monday  —  lean  manage  to  be  at  home  all  Tuesday 
afternoon.     Come  on  Tuesday,  between  three  and  four  in 
the  afternoon." 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Chichester." 

"  And  prepare,  child  "  —  they  were  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  the  Scotts'  house,  and  somehow  her  hand  was  in 
his  again  —  "  prepare  for  a  dark  story,  for  I'm  going  to 
tell  you  mine  ;  prepare  for  a  dark  household,  for  I'm  going 
to  introduce  you  to  mine,  a'nd  also,"  fora  moment  he  hes- 
itated, fearfully  agitated,  "  to  the  companion  of  my  life. 
Esther,  good-night." 

He  took  a  letter,  containing  his  address,  from  his  pocket, 
and  gave  it  her  as  they  stopped  at  the 'Scotts'  house  :  he 
kissed  her  cold  hands  three  or  four  times  over,  arid  then 
they  parted  without  another  word. 

He  loved  her ;  his  kisses  were  warm  upon  her  hands, 
upon  her  lips ;  it  was  to  rest  with  her  to  be  his  wife  or 
not.  But  as  Esther  stole  up  unnoticed  to  her  lonely  room, 
the  very  chill  of  death  itself  seemed  to  be  upon  her  heart. 

She  knew  that  if  a  renunciation  was  to  come  from  her 

lips,  she  would  be  inflexible,  even  though   the  whole  of 

her  happiness  should   be  the  sacrifice  she  must  offer  up. 

This  morning  she  could  have  done  it,  perhaps,  in  a  differ- 

18* 


418  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

ent  spirit :  could  have  said,  even  as  the  Hebrew  maiden 
said  of  old,  "Do  to  me  according  to  that  which  hath  pro- 
ceeded out  of  thy  mouth."  But  the  first  touch  of  pos- 
session had  swept  over  her  love  now,  and  unleavened  it 
for  ever  of  the  heroic. 

Paul  had  kissed  her ! 

What  was  duty,  what  was  heroism,  if  all  that  remain- 
ed to  her  of  life  —  thirty  or  forty  arid  years,  perhaps  — 
had  to  be  passed  away  from  Paul  ? 


CHAPTER  XLII. 
PAUL'S  HOME. 

THE  succeeding  days  passed  by  in  a  kind  of  dull  dream, 
the  nights  in  a  state  of  feverish  excitement,  wherein  real 
sleep  or  coherent  reasoning  waking  were  alike  denied  to 
her ;  but  still  Esther  Fleming  kept  as  usual  to  her  duties, 
and  was  in  no  danger  of  brahi  fever.  On  Sunday  she 
struggled  with  the  child  as  usual  through  the  first  three 
questions  of  the  catechism  ;  on  Monday  she  attended  Miss 
Dashwood  through  one  of  her  daily  courses  of  millinery  ; 
on  Tuesday  —  the  day  that  was  to  be  the  black  or  white 
day  of  her  life  —  she  even  forced  herself  to  sit  down  and 
write  a  letter  to  David.  If  things  ended  as  —  as  her  own 
foreboding  told  her  they  must  end,  she  would  not,  she 
thought,  be  able  to  write  just  at  first ;  and  so  it  would  be 
well  now,  while  she  could  yet  measure  her  strength,  to 
forewarn  them  of  her  return. 

"  I  am  well  in  health,"  she  stated  in  this  letter,  which 
was  quite  calm  and  well  expressed,  and  written  in  her 
usual  hand,  "  but  I  am  doubtful  if  the  life  here  is  one  I 
can  live  long.  Remind  Joan  that  she  once  said  she  thought 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         419 

I  could  earn  my  livelihood,  if  I  chose  it,  at  Countisbury, 
and  beg  of  her  to  be  prepared  at  any  time  for  my  return 
home." 

She  was  cairn  when  she  left  the  Scotts'  house ;  calm 
till  she  began  to  feel  that  she  must  be  close  to  Paul's ; 
then  all  her  courage  forsook  her,  as  woman's  courage  does 
forsake  them,  in  a  second,  and  with  the  very  inconsistency 
of  cowardice,  she  stopped  the  cab  suddenly,  and  dismiss- 
ed it  without  even  asking  the  driver  how  far  she  was  still 
from  her  destination. 

As  chance  willed,  she  was  already  there.  She  had 
scarcely  walked  a  dozen  hurried  steps  when  the  well-known 
accents  of  Paul's  voice  struck  on  her  ear.  In  another  mo- 
ment her  hand  was  in  his,  and  she  was  standing  scarce 
knowing  what  she  did  or  said  in  her  agitation,  at  the 
threshold  of  his  house. 

"I  thought  you  would  do  something  of  the  kind,"  he 
remarked,  after  hearing  her  singularly  inconsequential 
reasons  for  dismissing  the  cab.  "  I  felt  sure  you  would 
either  have  lost  the  address  altogether,  or  forgotten  the 
number,  or  made  some  other  equally  trivial  mistake  ;  and 
so,  as  a  kind  of  forlorn  hope,  I  stationed  myself  at  the 
gate  to  look  out  for  you.  I  hope  you  admire  my  flowers, 
Miss  Fleming  ?  This  piece  of  ground  between  the  house 
and  the  area  rails,  which  I  dare  say  you  country-people 
would  consider  too  narrow  for  a  garden-path,  is  what  we 
Londoners  are  proud  to  call  a  garden.  Stay  a  moment, 
and  I  believe  I  can  really  find  you  one  or  two  white  vio- 
lets." 

His  voice  was  very  quiet, —  too  quiet  to  be  thoroughly 
natural ;  his  face  pale,  and  more  worn  than  she  had  ever 
seen  it,  save  on  that  day  when  she  and  the  Dashwoods 
had  followed  him  in  his  walk.  Miss  Fleming  felt  that  he 
was  striving  to  rally,  not  her  nerves  alone,  but  his  own 
before  taking  her  into  the  house.  And  feeling  this,  she 


420  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

did  rally  —  yes,  and  was  able  to  stand  and  talk  to  him 
for  some  minutes,  almost  in  her  old  unconstrained  man- 
ner, as  he  gathered  her  a  few  spring-flowers  and  pointed 
out,  but  with  somewhat  forced  spirits,  the  capabilities 
which  a  dozen  square  feet  of  London  earth  might,  in  a 
master's  hands,  afford. 

"  I  don't  think  you  have  noticed  the  plate  upon  my 
door  yet,"  he  remarked,  when  the  conversation  had  dropped 
so  suddenly  and  utterly  that  there  was  no  longer  the 
barest  excuse  for  remaining  outside ;  "  or,  if  you  have 
noticed  it,  you  are  too  well-bred  to  let  me  be  aware  that 
you  have  done  so.  Look  here,  and  confess  by  how  much 
your  interest  in  me  has  deteriorated!" 

This  was  what  the  plate  bore. 

PAUL  CHICHESTER, 

Teacher  of  Mathematics. 

"Mr.  Chichester,  nothing  could  alter  me,"  said  Esther, 
very  low  and  very  hurriedly.  "  As  far  as  this  goes,  I  am 
not  even  surprised.  I've  often  thought  that  you  knew 
something,  by  experience,  of  the  kind  of  life  that  mine 
is  destined  to  be." 

"I  don't  think  you  know  what  that  is,  Miss  Fleming, 
but  come  in  —  come  in  at  once,"  he  interrupted  himself 
quickly.  "  We  are  cowards,  both  of  us ;  but  the  inevi- 
table moment  can't  be  staved  off  any  longer,  try  what 
we  will.  Come  in :  I  bid  you  welcome  to  my  house. 
You  are  the  first  visitor  that  has  ever  crossed  its  threshold 
since  I  inhabited  it." 

He  opened  the  door,  drew  her  hand  within  his  arm, 
and  led  her  into  a  small  sitting-room  on  the  ground-floor, 
—  his  own  especial  room,  as  Esther's  instinct  told  her  the 
moment  that  she  entered  it. 

"  You  look  pale,  Miss  Fleming.     You  have  not  recov- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         421 

ered  from  your  exploits  on  Saturday.  Sit  in  this  easy 
chair  —  it's  my  own,  and  therefore  you  may  rely  upon 
its  being  comfortable  —  and  wait  patiently  while  I  get 
you  a  glass  of  wine.  Pardon  me,  you  must  take  it.  For 
the  time  being,  you  are  in  my  power,  and  must  d,o  just 
what  I  tell  you." 

He  took  both  her  hands  and  made  her  sit  down  in  the 
place  he  had  offered ;  then  he  helped  her  to  take  off  her 
cloak  and  hat ;  and  then  he  got  her  a  glass  of  wine  — 
performing  all  these  offices  with  that  kindly  little  mas- 
culine roughness,  so  infinitely  sweeter  to  women  than  are 
the  finished  graces  of  men  merely  accustomed  to  society 
and  versed  in  the  minute  science  of  conventional  petits, 
soins. 

Mrs.  Strangways  had  never  once  made  Paul  under- 
stand that  he  was  to  put  on  her  opera-cloak,  unasked, 
during  all  the  time  she  had  had  him  for  an  attendant. 

"  That's  better  :  there's  a  tinge  of  color  in  your  face 
now.  You  look  a  shade  more  like  the  healthy  young  per- 
son who  stood  beside  me  that  first  night  on  the  balcony 
at  Weymouth ;  a  shade  less  like  the  ghost  that  flitted 
suddenly  before  me  in  Oxford  Street  on  Saturday.  Es- 
ther, do  you  feel  strong  ?  " 

"  Quite  strong,  now.  I  was  a  little  tired  till  you  made 
me  take  the  wine." 

"  You're  not  in  the  least  nervous  ?  You  wouldn't  give 
way  at  anything  you  had  to  hear  or  see  ?  " 

"  I  would  not  give  way  a  bit.  I  never  do.  I  haven't 
been  trained  to  it.  My  cousin  Joan  hates  scenes.  You 
need  not  be  afraid  of  me,  Mr.  Chichester." 

"That  is  right.  Now,  answer  me  one  question.  Have 
you  ever  heard  anything  about  my  family-history  ?  " 

"Nothing;  except  that  you  have  separated  yourself 
from  your  relations  for  years.  You  have  told  me  that 
yourself,  you  know  ;  I  also  heard  something  about  it  from 
my  Aunt  Thalia,  before  I  ever  saw  you  at  Weymouth." 


422  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"Very  well.  Now  I  am  going,  in  the  fewest  possible 
words,  to  give  you  the  reason  of  this  estrangement. 
Among  other  things  you  have  heard,  no  doubt,  that  mad- 
ness, in  one  form  or  another,  is  supposed  to  be  hereditary 
in  our  family  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  it." 

"  Esther,  when  I  was  a  child  of  seven  years  old,  my  fa- 
ther died.  Not  so  much,  of  course,  from  what  I  recollect, 
as  from  what  I  have  gained  from  others,  I  know  now  that 
he  was  a  man  averse  to  worldly  pursuits;  sedate,  studious, 
ambitionless.  He  was  also  poor.  As  he  neither  cared  for 
society  nor  for  advancement  —  as  he  neglected  his  rich 
friends,  and  spent  what  money  he  had  upon  his  poor  ones 
—  there  was,  naturally,  reason  enough  for  the  world  in 
general  to  call  -him  eccentric  —  the  family  malady  devel- 
oping itself  under  one  of  its  milder  forms.  My  mother 
especially  —  the  very  weakest  of  God's  creatures  I  ever 
knew  —  failed  to  discover  any  of  the  noble  points  in 
Hildebrand  Chichester's  character.  She  came  of  a  com- 
monplace family.  She  was  herself  (I  speak  quite  coldly, 
Esther,  I  outgrew  the  whole  of  my  love  for  her)  the  very 
type  and  essence  of  commonplace,  and  all  the  better  parts 
of  her  husband's  nature  were  simply  a  sealed  book  to  her. 
Like  all  such  minds,  she  was  thoroughly  fixed  in  her  opin- 
ions. Nothing  shook  her  in  any  idea  she  had  taken  up. 
She  neither  retrograded  nor  progressed.  My  father  was 
eccentric:  she  had  married  into  a  mad  family,  and  must 
make  the  best  of  it.  She  spoke  frequently  of  the  mys- 
terious dealings  of  Providence,  and  of  the  cross  she  had 
to  bear;  and,  I  suppose,  would  have  been  convinced  by 
nothing  short  of  direct  revelation  that  Hildebrand  Chi- 
chester  was  a  man  of  great  mental,  as  well  as  moral 
strength,  who  had  had  the  ill-fortune  to  ally  himself  with 
a  woman  considerably  below  the  dead  level  of  mediocrity 
in  all  things. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  423 

"  I  get  warm  when  I  speak  of  my  father ;  and  I  began 
by  promising  you  that  I  would  be  brief.  I  must  condense 
more.  When  I  was  seven  years  old,  he  died  suddenly ; 
and,  as  his  income  had  been  derived  nearly  exclusively 
from  an  annuity,  his  widow  and  children  were  left  very 
badly  off  indeed.  Well,  Providence,  which  had  before 
provided  my  mother  with  a  poor  and  eccentric  husband, 
stood  her  in  better  stead  now.  She  was  still  a  very 
beautiful  woman  —  I  will  show  you  a  likeness  of  her  some 
day ;  her  weeds  and  her  seclusion  were  neither  of  them 
of  very  long  duration  ;  and  just  one  twelvemonth  after 
my  father's  death,  the  Honorable  Frederick  Carew  had 
seen  her  face  sufficiently  often  in  public  places  to  fall  in 
love  with  her,  and  offer  to  make  her  his  wife. 

"Esther,  though  I  tell  you  I  outlived  my  love  for  her, 
some  of  the  old  pain  overcomes  me  as  I  have  to  speak  in 
direct  words  of  my  mother's  conduct.  But  the  story 
can't  be  told  otherwise !  I  was  not  her  only  child.  A 
daughter,  several  years  older  than  myself,  was  her  first- 
born ;  —  mark  this,  her  first-born  child.  A  creature  with 
a  fair  face  like  her  own  ;  but  from  whose  innocent  lips 
neither  heartlessness  nor  injustice  could  ever  come.  A 
creature  on  whom,  in  our  language,  God's  hand  was  heav- 
ily laid ;  but  who  was  yet  never  to  know  any  of  that 
worse  bitterness  of  life  which  it  is  the  .exclusive  preroga- 
tive of  human  thought  and  human  intelligence  to  feel." 
Paul  stopped  abruptly. 

"  And  this  child  died,  Mr.  Chichester  ?  "  Esther  asked, 
but  with  trembling  lips,  for  her  heart  began  to  divine  a 
ghastly  truth  ;  —  "  died,  and  her  mother  never  mourned 
for  her  ?  " 

"  This  child  lived.  This  child  lives  —  I  may  well 
say  so,  for  she  is,  and  always  will  be  a  child.  This  child 
is  the  companion  of  my  life.  Wait,  and  I  will  tell  you 
all. 


424  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  When  ray  mother  entered  upon  her  second  engage- 
ment, she  divined  that  so  heavy  a  burthen  as  a  helpless, 
imbecile  child  would  not  be  an  incentive  to  marriage  in 
the  mind  of  Mr.  Carew ;  divined  rightly  there,  as  you 
Vrlil  see  —  and  my  sister's  very  existence  was  studiously 
ignored  before  him.  I  recollect  perfectly  being  trained 
never  to  mention  Magdalen  ('twas  my  father's  favorite 
name,  and  he  had  her  called  so,  little  thinking  that  the 
hapless  child  would  never  know  either  temptation  or  re- 
pentance while  she  bore  it!) — I  recollect  being  trained 
never  to  mention  her  in  Mr.  Carew's  presence  ;  and  I 
acted  my  part  with  the  aptitude  that  I  remark  most 
young  children  show  for  falsehood,  simply  as  falsehood  * 
and  my  mother  acted  hers;  and  the  settlements  were 
drawn  out,  and  the  wedding-day  was  fixed,  and  they 
were  married ! 

"  I  remember  that  day  as  clearly  as  I  remember  my 
meeting  with  you  on  Saturday.  My  mother  never  in- 
tended, of  course,  to  attempt  to  conceal  her  daughter's 
existence  from  Mr.  Carew  after  the  marriage.  What  she 
wanted  was  for  the  marriage  to  pass  over  quietly,  and  then 
to  prepare  him  by  degrees,  during  their  wedding-tour, 
for  the  child  whom  she  would  have  to  present  to  him  up- 
on his  return.  And  to  carry  out  this  plan  she  had  hired 
the  small  furnished  house  we  lived  in  for  another  quarter, 
and  had  engaged  a  woman  for  the  special  purpose  of  tak- 
ing charge  of  Magdalen  and  myself  until  her  return.  But 
the  truth  was  destined  to  come  out  somewhat  more  blunt- 
ly than  she  had  calculated  on.  Mr.  Carew  was  introduc- 
ed to  his  step-daughter  upon  his  marriage-day,  and  through 
my  agency,  —  thus  : 

"  My  mother  informed  me  I  was  too  young  to  accom- 
pany the  bridal-party  to  the  church,  but  promised  me 
that  I  should  appear  at  the  breakfast  upon  their  return  — 
at  which  honor,  I  doubt  not,  I  was  as  proud  as  children 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  425 

ordinarily  are  of  any  opportunity  of  displaying  themselves 
in  new  clothes.  At  all  events,  I  recollect  as  I  stood  alone 
at  the  dining-room  window,  waiting  for  their  return,  a 
sudden  desire  coming  across  me  to  exhibit  myself  in  my 
new  finery  to  Magdalen.  I  was  perfectly  aware  that,  ibr 
some  cause  I  did  not  understand,  she  was  to  be  kept  out 
of  Mr.  Carew's  sight,  and  had  no  intention  of  disobeying 
my  mother's  orders.  The  gratification  of  my  own  vanity 
was  simply  what  influenced  me,  and,  as  this  is  a  passion 
nearly  as  strong  in  some  children  as  in  most  men,  you  will 
understand  that  I  did  not  reason  long,  when  the  intoxicat- 
ing image  of  poor  Magdalen's  surprise  had  once  taken 
possession  of  my  fancy. 

"  Esther,  the  girl  was  not  then  what  in  after-years  she 
became.  Of  sequence,  of  coherence  of  ideas  she  was,  I 
am  willing  to  believe,  incapable,  although  my  own  recol- 
lection don't  supply  me  with  evidence  on  the  point.  That 
she  was  able  to  join  in  my  play,  that  she  was  suscep- 
tible of  pain  and  pleasure,  I  know.  I  recollect,  at  this 
moment,  the  surprised  look  of  her  face  when  I  rushed  in 
upon  her  in  my  bridal  array,  the  eagerness  with  which  she 
fell  to  examining  the  different  details  of  my  dress  — 
above  all,  a  little  knot  of  white  flowers  and  ribbon,  that 
one  of  the  servants  had  pinned  upon  my  breast.  You 
know,  or  you  can  guess  at  her  love  for  white  flowers  (for 
whom  but  her  should  I  ever  have  spent  the  money  that 
you  have  known  me  do?)  During  the  last  few  months 
even  that  has  weakened;  but  for  years  the  constant  pos- 
session of  fresh  white  flowers  was  the  solitary  desire  of 
her  life,  —  the  solitary  thing  that  gave  her  pleasure.  And 
this  has  always  seemed  to  me  to  be  connected  with  some 
dim  recollection  of  my  mother's  marriage-day  —  the  last 
day,  mind  you,  on  which  anything  belonging  to  human 
affection  or  human  interest,  was  her  portion. 

"If  she   thought   so   much  of  my   dress   and   of  one 


426  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

wedding-favor,  how  must  she  be  impressed  by  the  sight 
of  the  grand  breakfast-table,  and  all  its  profusion  of  orna- 
ments and  flowers,  down  below?  The  transition  of 
thought  was  an  easy  one ;  and  chance  favored  me,  by  the 
absence  of  Magdalen's  nurse,  in  carrying  it  into  execution. 
You  know  how  time  would  pass  to  two  young  children 
looking  at  new  and  forbidden  sweets !  Before  I  thought 
I  had  been  five  minutes  in  the  room,  there  was  a  sudden 
awful  sound  of  footsteps  in  the  passage,  a  murmur  of 
voices,  a  rustling  of  silk,  and  my  mother  and  her  husband 
stood  at  the  door  of  the  room. 

"  God  forbid  that  I  should  attempt,  minutely,  to  des- 
cribe that  scene  to  you  !  My  mother's  weak  endeavors  to 
screen  herself  from  the  result  of  her  own  falsehood,  Mr. 
Carew's  coarse  rage,  the  astonishment  of  the  guests,  poor 
Magdalen's  stupefied  face,  as  she  turned  first  to  one  then 
to  another,  in  the  vain  endeavor  to  understand  the  con- 
tention of  which  she  dimly  understood  herself  to  be  the 
cause  !  every  one  of  these  details  is  imprinted  for  ever 
upon  my  brain,  but  I  need  not  speak  of  them  to  you. 
The  results  of  that  day,  the  sequel  of  the  story,  are  all 
with  which  I  have  any  concern  now." 

"  '  Let  her  be  taken,  let  her  be  taken  for  ever  from  my 
sight !'  These,  or  words  like  these,  were  what  Mr.  Carew 
employed,  when,  his  passion  having  somewhat  cooled,  my 
mother  was  attempting  to  reason  with  him.  '  I'd  as  soon 
live  in  a  mad-house  myself  as  have  one  of  these  creatures 
brought  under  my  roof!  The  young  one,'  turning  with 
a  glance  to  me,  '  is  bad  enough,  but  him  I  bargained  for. 
Of  the  other  I  will  know  no  more  than  I  did  an  hour  ago. 
And  you,  madam,'  he  added  to  my  mother  'will  do 
wisely  in  furthering  my  forgetful  ness.'  " 

"  Well,  Esther,  from  that  day  I  saw  Magdalen  no  more. 

"You  know  what  a  child's  memories,  what  a  child's 
affections  are !  Upon  my  mother's  return  from  abroad  I 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         427 

went  to  live  at  Newton.  I  had  the  freedom  of  a  country 
life,  the  liberty  which  is  the  usual  portion  of  unloved,  un- 
tended  children.  At-the  end  of  a  twelvemonth  I  had  my 
little  brother  Oliver.  What  should  I  think  of  Magdalen  ? 
I  was  forbidden  to  speak  of  her.  In  time  I  remembered 
her  only  as  I  remembered  London  and  my  father,  and  all 
the  other  things  gone  for  ever  out  of  my  life.  The  scene 
upon  my  mother's  marriage-day  had  not  been  of  a  nature 
to  make  me  wish  for  any  renewal  of  the  subject.  I  knew 
that  Magdalen,  for  some  reason  beyond  my  grasp,  was 
under  a  ban,  and  that  only  some  very  slight  difference  be- 
tween us  —  my  age,  perhaps,  or  my  utter  insignificance — 
prevented  me  from  sharing  the  same  fate. 

"  I  don't  want  to  use  any  hard  words.  Mr.  Carew  and 
my  mother  acted,  doubtless,  according  to  the  light  that 
was  in  them.  He  was  not  the  only  man  in  the  world  who 
would  have  repudiated  the  forced  duty  of  taking  under 
his  charge  an  alien,  imbecile  child.  There  have  been 
numberless  instances  of  women  feeling  not  alone  want  of 
affection,  but  actual  repugnance  for  their  own  offspring. 
As  regards  myselfj  I  have  no  cause  of  complaint  against 
the  Carews.  My  stepfather  looked  upon  me  from  first  to 
last  with  complete  aversion ;  but  the  old  Lord  Feltham 
took  somewhat  of  a  liking  to  me  —  half  I  think  out  of 
spite  to  my  step-father,  whom  he  despised,  and  was  wont 
to  call  half-witted  —  and  on  his  death-bed  made  his  only 
son  promise  to  assist  my  mother  in  my  education  and 
start  in  the  world. 

"  And  this  Francis  Carew,  afterwards  the  late  Lord 
Feltham,  did.  He  was  a  man  of  as  small  a  brain,  of  views 
as  narrow,  as  his  cousin  —  looking  with  the  same  righteous 
horror  upon  the  hereditary  curse  of  the  Chichesters,  and 
pronouncing  as  just  the  sentence  of  banishment  that 
had  been  passed  upon  my  unhappy  sister.  Personally, 
too,  I  believe  he  disliked  me;  he  had  no  children  of  his 


428  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

own,  and  the  subject  and  the  sight  of  children  alike  irri 
tated  him  :  but  he  had  a  strong  idea  (much  stronger  than 
had  my  stepfather  whose  passions  were  too  strong  for  him 
to  be  cautious)  of  keeping  all  family  disgrace,  foremost 
amongst  which  he  classed  poverty,  out  of  sight  of  the 
world.  His  cousin  Frederick  had  been  fool  enough  to 
marry  a  widow  without  money  and  with  children.  One 
of  these  children,  an  idiot,  they  had  wisely  shut  away  for 
life ;  the  other,  not  an  idiot,  couldn't  be  so  easily  disposed 
of.  Then  he  must  be  educated.  The  future  Lord  Felt- 
ham's  brother  must  be  in  the  position  of  a  gentleman. 
The  boy  must  be  educated  :  and  educated  I  was.  I  went 
to  Harrow,  I  went  to  college,  and  on  my  twentieth  birth- 
day was  informed  by  Lord  Feltham  that  he  was  about  to 
obtain  for  me  a  commission  in  the  army." 

"  And  then  you  broke  with  them  all,  Mr.  Chichester  ? 
This  is  the  part  of  the  story  I  have  already  heard." 

"  Then  I  broke  with  them,  Esther.  You  are  right. 
Then  I  broke  with  them  !  On  my  twentieth  birthday, 
after  tendering  my  thanks  to  Lord  Feltham  and  my  step- 
father for  the  assistance  they  had  given  my  mother  in  my 
education,  I  inquired,  in  the  midst  of  a  full  family  con- 
clave, for  my  sister  Magdalen. 

"  My  mother  cast  her  eyes  towards  heaven  and  search- 
ed for  her  handkerchief,  Lord  Feltham  and  my  stepfather 
put  the  question  curtly  aside.  So  I  repeated  it.  LTp  to 
that  time  I  had  been  treated  as  a  boy,  I  remarked,  on  the 
subject  of  my  sister.  Now  that  I  was  a  boy  no  longer,  I 
wished  to  hear  where  she  was  living,  as  I  intended  to  go 
and  &ee  her." 

"  Do  you  remember  the  day  I  married  your  mother, 
sir  ?  "  cried  out  Mr.  Carew,  whitening  with  rage.  "  Be- 
cause, if  you  do,  I  wonder  at  your  daring  to  allude  to  this 
subject  in  my  presence." 

"I  answered  that  I  remembered  it  accurately  —  as  hi- 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        429 

deed  I  did  —  and  I  also  added  that  I  felt  shame  when  I 
counted  up  the  number  of  years  that  had  since  elapsed 
without  Magdalen's  face  having  been  seen  among  us." 
Then  he  added 

"  No,  Esther.  I  will  not  go  into  it  all  to  you.  Why, 
in  truth,  should  I  ?  I  am  not  seeking  to  shock  you  with 
accounts  of  the  cold  inhumanity  of  those  narrow  hearts 
and  brains,  but  simply  to  show  in  what  especial  manner 
Magdalen  came  to  fall  into  my  hands. 

"  When  our  conversation  was  ended,  Lord  Feltham 
gave  me  my  unhappy  sister's  address,  with  fullest  warning 
that  unless  I  left  my  family  disgrace  to  moulder  where  it 
was,  I  was  to  look  for  no  more  assistance  from  his  hands, 
and  that  evening  I  bade  rny  mother  farewell  and  left 
Newton. 

"'You  are  mad,  Paul,'  were  her  last  words  to  me. 
After  all  Lord  Feltham's  kindness  and  my  prayers  you 
are  going  to  turn  out  just  as  senseless  and  headstrong  as 
your  poor,  dear  father.  Magdalen  is  perfectly  well  cared 
for  where  she  is.  What  good  can  it  do  either  you  or  her- 
self to  disturb  her?' 

"  I  replied  that  I  would  judge  for  myself,  and  I  did  so. 
Yes,  Esther,  I  did  so!  Before  noon  of  the  next  day  I 
held  my  sister  in  my  arms. 

"But,  great  God,  how  changed !  My  childish  remem- 
brance was  of  a  soft-faced,  soft-voiced  girl,  who  used  to 
laugh  and  join  with  me  in  my  play,  and  whose  vacancy 
of  intellect  was  at  least  not  glaring  enough  to  show  itself 
to  me  —  I  saw  a  wan,  faded  woman ;  with  less,  far  less 
than  a  child's  intellect,  but  with  an  unspeakable  unmistak- 
able look  of  the  pain  that  ought  only  to  belong  to  us,  who 
think  and  know  what  life  is,  upon  her  vacant  face.  I  re- 
membered a  girl  who  used  to  kiss  me  and  soothe  me,  in  her 
poor  way,  in  all  my  childish  sorrows;  I  found  a  woman  in 
whose  bereft  heart  all  capacity  for,  all  knowledge  even  of 


430  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

human  affection,  was  for  ever  withered  and  dead.  What 
she  might  have  been,  I  can  never  know.  I  have  refrain- 
ed long  from  even  speculating  on  that  point.  What  she 
was  as  a  child  I  know,  what  I  found  her  I  know.  And 
at  the  time  I  rested  simply  upon  that  knowledge  — and 
acted  on  it. 

"She  had  lived  with  the  people,  an  honest  enough 
country  laborer  and  his  wife,  in  whose  hands  I  found  her, 
nearly  four  years,  they  informed  me.  They  didn't  know 
her  name,  nor  yet  where  his  lordship  had  had  her  kept 
before.  There  was  no  particular  change  in  her  state 
during  this  time,  only  perhaps  she  noticed  less.  Her 
health  was  pretty  good,  considering  she  lived  quite  in  two 
rooms,  and  never  took  the  air.  They  weren't  accustomed 
to  mad  people,  and  wouldn't  be  sorry  to  give  her  up  now 
that  the  children  were  growing  older.  Lord  Feltham  had 
put  it  in  their  way  because  a  brother  of  the  man,  or  of 
the  woman,  I  forget  these  kind  of  details,  had  been  his 
father's  valet. 

"  You  look  white,  child.  The  story  is  a  sickening  one, 
but  'tis  nearly  told.  The  moment  I  saw  my  sister  Mag- 
dalen's face,  rny  determination  was  formed.  All  I  had  to 
do  was  to  find  out  the  money  obligations  under  which  I 
stood,  as  regarded  her,  to  Lord  Feltham  and  Mr.  Carew. 
In  answer  to  my  inquiries  on  the  subject  I  was  referred 
to  the  family  solicitor,  and  from  him  I  learned  that  Mag- 
dalen Chichester  had  been  supported,  strictly,  through 
and  upon  her  own  means.  With  the  strange  foresight  of 
parental  love,  my  father  had  appointed  in  his  will  that, 
should  my  mother  marry  again,  the  sum  of  fifty  pounds 
a  year  was  to  be  applied  under  my  mother's  guardianship, 
for  her  use ;  and  in  the  event  of  this  second  marriage,  it 
was  further  appointed  that  upon  my  attaining  the  age  of 
twenty-one  I  was  to  become  rny  '  afflicted  sister  Mag- 
dalen's sole  guardian  for  the  remainder  of  her  life.'  The 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         431 

rest  of  the  money,  scarcely  amounting  to  a  hundred 
pounds  a  year  more,  was  left  to  my  mother,  and  this  Mrs. 
Carew  now  enjoys,  and,  I  doubt  not,  will  enjoy  for  another 
quarter  of  a  century,  at  least,  as  pin-money.  On  her 
death,  I  believe,  it  is  to  come  to  me. 

"I  become  her  guardian,  Esther,  as  I  am  now  and  ever 
shall  be.  It  was  no  fine  or  exalted  sentiment  whatever 
that  made  me  act  as  I  did.  Any  man  possessed  of  com- 
mon human  passions  or  human  affections  must  have  done 
the  same.  Upon  one  side,  the  bounty  of  people  whom  I 
despised,  and  the  cold-blooded  renunciation  of  one  of  the 
nearest  and  strongest  ties  of  life  —  upon  the  other,  work 
and  poverty,  certainly,  but  independence,  and  the  power 
to  stand  by  the  poor,  bereft  being  who  had  no  friend  on 
earth  but  myself.  Lad  as  I  was,  and  accustomed  till  then 
to  defer  wholly  to  the  will  and  opinion  of  others,  it  never 
even  occurred  to  me  to  doubt  as  to  what  my  line  of  con- 
duct must  be.  Accident  decided  by  what  means  my 
bread  and  Magdalen's  should  be  earned.  The  brother  of 
one  of  my  college  friends  required  a  travelling  tutor  for 
six  months.  I  accompanied  him,  leaving  Magdalen  in 
good  hands  during  the  interval,  found  that  I  had  some- 
what of  a  specialty  for  tuition,  and  on  my  return  —  I 
was  just  one-and-twenty  then  —  succeeded  in  obtaining  a 
mathematical  mastership  to  a  private  school  near  Kensing- 
ton. 

"  Those  were  uphill  days,  Esther,  as  you  may  believe. 
But,  although  my  abilities  are  not  more  than  those  of 
other  men,  I  had  an  indomitable  determination  in  me  to 
succeed  that  would,  I  believe,  have  moved  mountains. 
Nothing  daunted  me ;  nothing  disappointed  me  ;  I  had  Mag- 
dalen's pale  face  to  strengthen  me.  I  had  the  thought  of  the 
Carews  to  goad  me  on  to  fresh  endeavors.  I  have  suc- 
ceeded. During  the  last  six  years  not  one  farthing  of  the 
interest  of  rny  sister's  money  has  been  touched.  I  have 


432  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

even  yearly  added  something  to  the  capital.  If  I  died 
to-morrow,  Magdalen,  with  the  money  sunk  as  I  intend 
to  sink  it  for  her,  would  have  enough  to  live  in  the  corn- 
fort  and  the  care  that  her  state  demands,  and  will  demand 
more  every  year  that  she  lives.  Yes,  thank  God  !  I  have 
succeeded.  And,  looking  back  to  these  nine  years  of 
work,  I  don't  think  I  can  say  my  life  —  save  for  her,  poor 
soul  —  has  been  an  unhappy  one.  More  than  this,  Es- 
ther, these  years  of  work  have  had  the  strongest  influence 
for  good  upon  my  own  mental  growth.  .  .  . 

"...  Why  should  I  turn  with  shame  from  that  blot 
upon  my  'scutcheon,  which  is  in  truth  no  blot.  I  shouldn't, 
child,  save  for  something  in  your  eyes  which  pleads  to  me 
not  to  speak  of  it.  I  am  by  nature  wholly  of  the  tem- 
perament of  my  father  and  his  people  —  the  same  capacity 
for  passionate,  reasonless  emotion,  the  same  innate  distaste 
for  action,  the  same  fitful  humor,  the  same  tendency  to 
profoundest,  moody  melancholy.  How  can  I  tell  what  I 
night  have  become  in  the  life  of  mental  inactivity  which 
the  army  would  have  opened  to  me  ?  As  it  is,  from  the 
time  I  was  twenty  my  life  has  been  one  of  never-ceasing, 
healthy  work.  My  brain  has  been  habitually  submitted 
to  the  mechanical  processes  of  reason  until  I  have  got  to 
hold  it,  so  to  speak,  in  my  own  command.  We  contain, 
each  of  us,  you  know,  within  ourselves  the  antagonistic 
powers  which  may  with  special  training  counterbalance 
almost  any  so-called  irresistible  or  hereditary  tendency  of 
the  bodily  organism.  So  finely  balanced  is  the  machine, 
that  a  grain  may  turn  it  to  either  side  ;  but  I  have  always 
maintained,  and  will  always  maintain,  that  as  long  as 
disease  has  not  actually  changed  the  structure  of  the 
organ  and  so  destroyed  the  possibility  of  reasoning,  it  is 
in  the  power  of  the  will  to  cast  that  grain.  To  the 
man  whom  birth  has  placed  in  that  awful  border-land  be- 
tween sanity  and  insanity,  and  who  once  becomes  a  slave 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  433 

to  his  lower  nature,  any  of  the  commonest  shocks  of  life, 
any  disappointed  hope,  any  delusion  of  the  senses,  may 
be  fatal.  The  man  with  the  same  birthright,  but  whose 
brain  during  the  progress  from  youth  to  maturity  has 
been  made  flexible  and  habitually  obedient  to  the  dictates 
of  the  rational  will,  may  suffer  —  will  suffer  —  more 
keenly  than  other  men  while  he  lives ;  but  he  will  not  be 
mad.  The  entail  to  the  darkest  of  all  human  heritages  is 
cut  off  in  him,  cut  off — I  speak  it  reverently  —  by  his 
own  diligent  cultivation  of  such  poor  materials  as  were 
granted  to  him. 

"Esther,  the  story  is  told.     Wait  a  minute  or  two,  and 
I  will  bring  Magdalen  to  see  you." 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

MAGDALEN. 

THIS,  then,  was  Paul's  secret.  No  ill-assorted  marriage, 
no  fidelity  to  a  passion  that  his  heart  had  long  outlived, 
was  the  barrier  that  stood  between  him  and  a  new  love ; 
but  simply  a  very  plain,  very  commonplace  duty  —  the 
care  of  a  forlorn  and  imbecile  sister,  whom  not  so  much 
an  irresistible  duty  but  the  wanton  neglect  of  her  first  nat 
ural  protector  had  cast  upon  his  hands. 

One  of  the  strange  inconsistencies  of  human  nature  is 
its  unwillingness  to  accept  any  other  blow  than  that 
particular  one  for  which  it  stood  prepared.  For  a  wholly 
different,  for,  in  one  sense,  a  far  more  difficult  position 
than  this,  Esther  Fleming  was  armed,  and  would,  doubt- 
less, have  fought  the  fight  out  well.  But  her  heart  had 
contracted  with  the  sharp  pangs  of  cruellest  disappoint- 
ment during  all  the  latter  part  of  Pjiul's  history;  and, 
19 


434  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

when  he  prepared  to  leave  her,  no  one  word,  either  of 
surprise  or  consolation,  found  its  way  to  her  lips. 

What,  indeed,  was  she  to  say  ?  Severed  from  him  by 
such  a  rival  as  she  had  dreamed  of,  all  the  pride,  all  the 
nobleness  of  her  heart  must  have  cried  out,  "Keep  to 
her.  Cherish  to  the  last  the  life  that  has  been  bereft  of 
all  else  for  your  sake  !  "  This  she  knew  she  could  have 
said  ;  could  have  thanked  him  for  the  confidence  he  had 
given  her  ;  have  promised  to  remember  him  with  affection 
while  she  lived,  and  then  have  gone  away — gone  far 
away,  home  to  the  old  house  at  Countisbury,  to  drink 
alone  and  in  silence  the  dregs  of  the  bitter  cup  her  life 
had  proved  to  her. 

But  what  was  she  to  say  now  ?  Full  of  youth  and  the 
passion  of  youth,  was  she  to  cry, "  For  this  phantom,  for  this 
ghost  of  a  duty  that  others  could  fulfill  as  well,  give  up 
your  life  and  all  that  my  love  could  make  your  life  to 
you  ?  Love,  youth,  hope,  what  are  they,  compared  to  the 
straight  and  narrow  path  wherein  you  have  decided  it  is 
your  duty  to  keep  ?  "  This,  of  course,  was  what  Paul 
would  expect  from  her ;  this,  of  course,  was  the  renunci- 
ation that  to  a  lukewarm  love  like  his  would  be  so  simple. 
For  her  it  was  worse  than  death  ;  it  was  bitterness  that 
even  the  last  few  weeks  had  not  prepared  her  for.  And 
pride  and  reason  alike  told  her  that  she  must  speak  thus. 
He  had  said  that  the  issue  was  to  be  left  in  her  hands. 
What  remained  for  her  than  to  corroborate  the  fiat  that  he 
himself  had  already  tacitly  pronounced,  by  telling  her  his 
history  ? 

No  thought  of  Paul's  self-sacrificed  life  ;  no  thought  of 
all  the  loveless  years  of  his  youth ;  no  respect  for  the 
very  highest  qualities  it  had  ever  been  given  her  to  know 
in  any  man,  rose  in  Esther's  mind  during  these  first  few 
minutes.  She  was  capable  of  it  all  hereafter ;  but  now 
she  was  simply  a  woman,  smarting  under  the  severest 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  435 

stroke  a  woman's  vanity  can  sustain  —  the  belief,  namely, 
that  she  has  given  passionate  love  in  exchange  for  calm, 
tempered,  reasoning  friendship.  And  so,  as  she  walked 
to  the  window,  through  which  the  soft  sun  of  the  spring 
afternoon  was  streaming,  and  as  she  smelt  the  sweetness 
of  the  spring  flowers  from  Paul's  tiny  garden  outside, 
she  realized  (many  human  beings,  I  fancy,  have  done  the 
same)  that  love  was  a  madness ;  that  it  had  brought  her 
no  one  experience  save  misery  since  she  had  known  it; 
and  that  she  could  pray  —  yes,  that  she  could  sincerely 
pray  —  God  to  set  her  free  from  it  and  from  all  influence 
of  Paul  from  this  very  hour. 

I  don't  know  whether  she  actually  began  the  petition 
or  not ;  for,,  just  as  her  thoughts  reached  this  point,  the 
door  of  the  sitting-room  opened  and  Paul  came  in  — 
Paul  and  his  sister. 

At  the  sight  of  her  —  at  the  sight  of  that  poor  face,  so 
like  Paul's  in  outline,  so  removed  from  his  by  the  whole 
world  of  soul  and  brain — Esther's  heart  sickened  and 
stood  still.  A  minute  before,  outraged  pride,  wounded 
love,  had  been  paramount  in  her  breast ;  but  at  the  first 
sight  of  her  unhappy  rival  all  petty,  all  selfish  feeling  was 
swept  away  forever.  She  stood  literally  hushed,  speech 
less,  motionless,  as  she  gazed  on  the  face  of  Magdalen  Chi 
Chester.  Just  as  one  full  of  life  and  health  might  stand 
hushed,  if  led  abruptly  from  the  outside,  noisy  world  into 
a  silent  chamber  of  death. 

Was  it  not  death,  indeed  ?  death  far  more  fearful  than 
all  mere  bodily  mortality?  There  was  nothing  in  the 
slightest  degree  repulsive  in  the  appearance  of  Paul's  sis- 
ter. In  repose,  and  with  the  expressionless  eyes  down- 
cast, a  sculptor  might  have  taken  her  chiselled  features 
still  as  a  model  for  the  wan,  passive,  patient  face  of  some 
mediaeval  saint.  What  chilled  you  so  inexpressibly  when 
you  first  saw  her  was  the  quenched  look,  the  utter  want 


436  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

of  every  human  expression,  the  expression  of  suffering, 
even,  upon  her  face.  Earlier  in  life,  when  the  weak  brain 
had  possessed  somewhat  more  of  vitality,  she  had  possibly 
been  able  to  suffer  more ;  for  hers  was  conspicuously  one 
of  the  cases  in  which,  year,  by  year,  and  while  the  bodily 
health  may  improve,  the  one  ray  of  intellect  seems  to 
flicker  more  and  more  feebly.  But  all  that  was  over  now ; 
and  severance  from  Paul  would  just  have  cost  her  no 
more,  not  so  much  perhaps,  as  severance  from  her  nurse 
or  from  her  accustomed  room.  She  took  her  meals;  she 
walked  out  in  the  sun  ;  she  went  to  her  rest  when  they 
bid  her;  she  got  up  when  they  bid  her  ;  but  all  passively, 
without  even  the  slight  irritability  of  temper  which,  some 
years  before,  she  had  been  used  to  show.  Upon  all  God's 
earth  no  being  could  live  in  whom  not  intelligence  alone 
but  all  the  ordinary  physical  senses  of  our  nature  were 
more  utterly  void  and  blank  than  in  the  bereft  companion 
of  Paul  Chichester's  life. 

"  Give  her  your  flowers,"  he  whispered,  coming  closer 
to  Esther.  "  A  flower  is  the  only  thing  that  will  rouse 
her  attention,  and  even  for  them,  I  think,  she  has  well- 
nigh  ceased  to  care.  What !  would  you  draw  back  ?  "  he 
added,  as  Esther  faltered  visibly.  Can  there  be  anything 
in  her  of  which  you  should  stand  in  dread  ?  Let  me  have 
them,  then,  and  I  will  give  them  to  her." 

"No,  Mr.  Chichester,"  and  Esther's  voice  was  perfectly 
calm;  "I  would  rather  give  her  them  rnysel£  Will  you 
have  my  flowers,  please  ?  Your  brother  has  just  picked 
them  fresh  from  the  garden."  And  she  walked  a  step  or 
two  forward  ;  she  took  Paul's  flowers  from  her  breast  — 
what  right  had  she  to  them,  to  anything  of  his  ?  —  and 
held  them  out  to  his  sister. 

She  just  raised  her  eyes  to  Esther's  face,  took  the  flow- 
ers passively,  and  then  stood,  as  a  child  stands  in  the  pres- 
ence of  strangers,  waiting  to  be  bid  to  move  or  to  speak. 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.          437 

"  Magdalen  will  go  back  to  Susan,"  said  Paul,  coming 
back  tenderly  to  her  side ;  "  and  Susan  will  take  her  out 
in  the  sunshine.  Will  Magdalen  give  her  hand  to  Miss 
Fleming  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  as  she  had  looked  at  Esther,  without 
speaking  a  word ;  then  held  out  her  hand,  letting  the 
flowers  fall  unheeded  to  the  ground  as  she  did  so.  Esther 
Fleming  took  it  —  took  that  nerveless,  unoffending  hand 
which  yet,  as  she  believed,  had  cut  in  twain  the  one  golden 
cord  of  her  life,  held  it  reverently  in  both  of  hers,  and 
kissed  it. 

"And  I  love  you  better  than  I  thought  I  could  love  any 
woman,"  said  Paul,  when  he  came  back  a  few  minutes 
later  and  found  her,  pride  gone,  harshness  gone,  self,  alto- 
gether, gone,  meekly  restoring  his  flowers  again  to  their 
place.  "Esther,  let  me  kiss  you  —  thus  —  thus — for 
that  kiss  you  gave  her  —  the  only  kiss,  God  help  her ! 
that  any  lips,  save  mine,  have  given  her  since  she  was  a 
child.  You  are  worthy  of  a  better  fate,  my  poor  Esther ; 
but,  as  heaven  has  willed  it,  so  must  it  be." 

"Paul,  you  shall  never  leave  her!  "  but  she  threw  her 
arms  round  his  neck  as  she  said  it.  "  I  will  love  you  al- 
ways ;  but  I  will  never  come,  by  one  inch,  between  you 
and  your  duty  to  her." 


CHAPTER  XLIY. 

ALONE. 


IT  is  not  invariably  the  case  that  young  women  in  a 
state  of  advanced  civilization  love  men  more  the  better 
they  think  of  them  ;  rather  the  reverse,  I  imagine.  But 


'438  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

Esther  did  not  belong  to  a  highly  civilized  type-  The 
Dash  woods'  views  of  men,  and  of  what  men  must  be,  had 
never  really  touched  her.  She  held  still  to  a  lofty  ideal. 
She  believed  as  rigidly  in  honesty  and  truth  as  she  did  in 
the  old-fashioned  Christian  religion  that  Joan  had  taught 
her ;  arid  the  only  times  when  her  love  for  Paul  had  ever 
shaken  was  when  occasionally  somewhat  lax  notions  res- 
pecting traditional  articles  of  her  faith  had  fallen  from  his 
lips. 

But  now  she  saw  him,  for  the  first  time,  as  he  was. 
She  was  brought  face  to  face  not  with  any  ideal  at  all, 
but  with  Paul  Chichester  the  living  man,  and  her  love 
was  heightened  immeasurably.  In  nineteen  cases  out  of 
twenty  —  or  probably  that  estimate  is  altogether  false; 
in  ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred  —  the  hour  in  which  two 
people  in  love  first  see  each  other  in  their  true  character, 
is  the  hour  in  which  "  both  perceive  they  have  dreamed  a 
dream"  and  awake  from  it.  But  Esther's  imagination  — 
rare  accident !  —  had  built  up  an  ideal  very  near  to  what 
Paul  really  was ;  and  she  knew  now  that  her  instinct  had 
been  correct,  that  he  was  cast  in  that  mould  wherein  the 
man  must  be  cast  whom  she  was  to  love  for  life  —  the 
most  perfectly  heroic,  the  Christian  mould,  namely.  (I 
endorse  nothing,  reader ;  I  am  but  the  recorder  of  my 
heroine's  opinions.)  If  Paul  had  at  times  seemed  to 
waver  where  she  was  sure,  had  not  his  whole  life  been  an 
actual  working  interpretation  of  her  religion  —  of  the 
highest,  of  the  only  true  light  by  which  she  believed  it  is 
given  to  men  to  walk  ?  Could  there  be  a  more  Christian 
conception  of  duty  than  to  accept  unconditionally  such  a 
life  as  his  had  been  ?  Could  any  faith  be  greater  than  his 
belief  that  his  bitter  lot  had  been  simply  the  one  best 
suited  to  him  ;  not  the  mere  result  of  blind  and  cruel 
chance,  but  the  mysterious  workings  of  a  will  whose  per- 
fect love  and  wisdom  it  never  even  occurred  to  him  to 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  439 

qnestion?  Could  any  virtue  be  nobler  than  the  life-long 
fidelity  with  which  he  had  stood  to  his  self-imposed  yoke 
—  courageous  and  unshrinking,  yet  humble  as  a  child  as 
to  the  merit  of  his  own  abnegation  ? 

She  had  loved  Paul  long ;  almost  from  the  first  hour 
she  ever  saw  him.  She  had  loved  him  passionately,  in- 
stinctively; with  that  wild  craving  of  the  whole  heart  and 
brain  which,  while  it  can  find  no  reason  to  offer,  for  its  ex- 
cess, holds  in  its  own  nature  the  very  core  and  essence  of 
all  true  love — perfect  and  unknowing  sympathy.  But 
now  she  found  an  outward  and  visible  form  of  the  supe- 
riority she  had  hitherto  only  yearned  after,  in  her  idol. 
She  saw  him  crowned  with  the  fairest  ornament,  the  di- 
vinest  beauty  that  can  ever  encompass  a  human  soul. 
She  saw  him  suffering,  resigned,  brave ;  and  from  loving, 
by  an  easy  transition,  she  fell  to  worshipping  him. 

The  first  grand  dogma  of  all  primitive  human  religion  is 
sacrifice,  and  Esther  was  essentially  primitive  and  essential- 
ly human.  As  soon  as  she  worshipped  Mr.  Chichester  she 
felt  (she  had  not  done  so  before  the  day  she  worshipped 
him,  mind,)  with  all  the  glow  of  fresh  enthusiasm,  that 
her  life  could  no  longer  be  the  colorless,  loveless  life  she 
had  pictured,  but  a  life  well  spent,  because  utterly  sacri- 
ficed to  her  idol. 

A  letter  from  David  Engleheart  the  morning  after  she 
had  been  to  visit  Paul,  held  out,  as  it  seemed  to  her,  im- 
mediate counsel  and  aid  in  the  position  in  which  she  now 
stood.  At  another  time  she  must  have  laughed  —  have 
laughed,  and  then  have  wept,  over  the  minglement  of  the 
grotesque  and  the  really  sad  in  poor  David's  letter.  But 
with  the  sublime  selfishness  of  love,  all  the  significance  his 
letter  bore  for  her  now  was  simply  in  as  far  as  its  con- 
tents could  affect  her  relations  with 'Paul. 

"  Come  to  us  any  day,"  the  poor  fellow  wrote.  "  Your 
little  room  is  in  order,  and  only  waiting  to  receive  you. 


440  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

And,  Esther,  don't  be  surprised,  but  when  you  come  —  if 
you  are  not  here  in  the  next  fortnight  —  Joan  will  have 
married  me!  When  I  got  your  letter,  my  dear  —  you 
mustn't  be  offended  with  me  if  1  was  wrong — the 
thought  struck  me  that  you  weren't  happy  in  your  new 
life,  and  I  told  Joan  so,  and  proposed  she  should  send  for 
you  back  at  once.  Well — I  could  laugh,  child,  I  could 
put  down  my  pen  and  laugh, though,  God  knows  !  it  is  no 
jesting  matter  —  she  flew  back  straight  to  the  old  subject 
(and  after  dropping  it,  and  almost  letting  me  feel  myself 
quiet  and  comfortable  for  weeks  past.)  If  you  were  to 
come  back  to  Countisbury,  your  home  must  be  made  a 
permanent  home  for  you  ;  and  if  Aunt  Engleheart  died 
• — good  Lord  !  why  do  I  go  through  all  the  dreary  farce 
again  ?  We've  been  asked  in  church,  Esther !  Been 
asked  in  church,  and  after  the  third  time  of  asking,  I  be- 
long to  Joan  Engleheart,  and  shall  walk  to  the  parish 
church  and  be  married  to  her  at  any  moment  she  chooses. 
Don't  congratulate,  or  condole,  or  anything,  please,  when 
you  write,  but  just  say  what  day  you'll  come,  and  Patty 
and  I  will  be  there  to  meet  you  at  the  bridge.  And  Es- 
ther, my  dear,  don't  pity  me,  even  in  your  heart.  I'd 
marry  fifty  Joans  to  get  you  to  live  with  me ;  and  consid- 
ering the  poor  kind  of  fellow  I  am,  and  all  the  good  she's 
been  to  me,  and  how  she  looks  after  my  money  and  every- 
thing, I  believe  I'm  making  only  a  right  return  by  taking 
her  for  my  —  no,  I  mean  by  letting  her  take  me  for  her 
husband.  Her  plan  for  you  is  —  I  don't  like  it,  though, 
and  don't  think  it  necessary  —  that  you  and  she  together 
should  organize  a  little  day-school  for  the  better  kind  of 
children  hereabouts.  Farmer  Villicot  would  send  you 
five  at  once,  and  the  promise  of  a  continued  supply  for 
another  dozen  years,  and  John  Williams  would  send  two, 
and  altogether  Joan  thinks  you  would  start  with  ten  or 
twelve  at  least.  Heaven  knows,  a  school  is  sorely  wanted 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.         441 

for  the  young  savages,  but  I  don't  like  to  think  of  Esther 
Fleming  engaged  on  such  a  task." 

But  Esther  Fleming  did  like  to  think  of  herself  as  so 
engaged ;  and  as  she  walked  about  and  discharged  her 
duties  in  the  days  succeeding  her  visit  to  Paul,  her  cheeks 
were  flushed,  her  step  was  elastic,  her  eyes  were  full  of 
light.  Of  course  you  are  right;  it  wouldn't  have  lasted  ; 
no  enthusiasm  lasts;  but  it  was  quite  genuine  for  the 
time,  and,  as  must  ever  be  the  case  with  all  genuine  emo- 
tion, Esther  believed  firmly  herself  in  the  eternity  of  its 
duration. 

"You  shall  have  one  week  to  decide,"  were  Paul's  last 
words  when  he  had  walked  home  with  her  on  Tuesday. 
"  For  one  week  I  shall  neither  see  you  nor  write  to  you  ; 
then,  this  day  week,  at  this  hour,  I  shall  come  and  hear, 
and  abide  by  your  decision.  Only,  before  you  give  it,  I 
shall  tell  you  honestly  whatever  effect  these  intervening 
days  may  have  worked  on  myself;' 

And,  as  I  have  said,  during  these  days  she  walked  erect, 
and  performed  her  duties  bravely,  and  only  cried  by 
nights,  and  believed  quite  sincerely  that  she  was  strong 
enough  to  part  from  Paul  and  live  all  the  remainder  of 
her  life  away  from  him  without  a  murmur. 

"  Whatever  it  may  be  hereafter  (if  there  is  any  here- 
after,) I  don't  believe  in  good  people  being  rewarded  in 
this  world,"  said  Miss  Dash  wood,  suddenly,  as  they  were 
sitting  together  before  the  fire  on  the  last  night  of 
Esther's  probation.  "Out  of  all  the  half-dozen  people  I 
know  intimately,  you  are,  beyond  question,  the  best,  and 
you  are  ending  in  grief,  and  all  the  rest  of  us  well,  or 
what  we  are  willing  to  consider  as  well.  Arthur  marries 
Miss  Lynes ;  I,  Lord  Feltham  ;  Milly  has  an  excellent 
income,  a  man  she  finds  it  possible  to  live  with,  and  now 
this  week-old  son,  whom,  no  doubt,  as  being  part  of  her-- 
self,  she'll  love.  Even  Mrs.  Strangways  prospers.  I 
19* 


442  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

heard  to-day  that  her  husband  has  been  appointed  to  an 
excellent  official  post  in  Russia,  and  that  she's  going  to 
take  all  her  dear  children  with  her,  and  devote  herself  to 
their  education,  and  think  nothing  of  the  world.  In 
other  words,  if  the  Russians  think  her  too  old  to  dance, 
she'll  go  in  for  domesticity,  flavored  by  quiet  home  flirta- 
tions, till  the  eldest  girl  is  sixteen,  and  then  return  to  the 
world,  and  flirt  and  manoeuvre  vicariously.  Yes,  this  is 
how  all  we  of  the  world  prosper,  and  you,  Esther,  who 
would  outweigh  us  all  put  together  in  the  balance  of 
moral  good  —  if  such  an  unpleasant  machine  existed, 
which  it  happily  does  not  —  you  are  going  to  wear  your- 
self out  teaching  children  in  Devonshire,  and  giving  up 
your  life  to  a  man  who  gives  you  up  for  a  Quixotic  sense 
of  duty.  Of  a  truth,  virtue  doesn't  pay,  and  I  find  it 
better  to  be  vicious  !  " 

"I  don't  think  anythings  pays,"  said  Miss  Fleming, 
meekly.  "  Love  certainly  does  not,  and  pleasure,  you  say, 
does  not ;  of  riches  I  have  had  rro  experience.  If  noth- 
ing brings  reward  in  this  world,  as  well  try  duty,  which, 
at  least,  may  advance  us  in  the  next." 

"I  like  to  hear  good  people  say  those  things,"  cried 
Miss  Dash  wood,  with  the  hard,  short  laugh  that  was  daily 
growing  common  with  her  ;  "  it  brings  them  so  complete- 
ly to  our  own  level  after  all.  Self,  self!  Self-advance- 
ment, in  this  world  or  the  next,  is  the  one  thing  we  live 
for,  good  or  bad,  fast  or  slow.  Esther,"  breaking  off,  and 
her  voice  changing  in  a  second,  "  I  hope  you'll  think  of 
me  sometimes  ?  " 

"I  shall  think  of  you,  Jane.  I  shall  have  little  to  hin- 
der me  from  thinking  of  old  friends." 

"  I  fancy,  you  know,  I  should  have  been  different  if  I'd 
married  Arthur.  If  ever  you  marry  Paul  —  don't  inter- 
rupt me  ;  his  sister  might  die  ;  there's  at  least  a  bare  pos- 
sibility of  it  —  if  ever  you  marry  Paul,  and  you  find  that 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES.  443 

being  the  wife  of  a  man  one  loves  passionately  is  happi- 
ness, think  of  me,  Esther,  and  of  what  I  ought  to  have 
been  !  I  shall  never  be  sentimental  again  like  this  while  I 
live,"  added  Miss  Dash  wood,  huskily.  "  In  speaking 
this  once  to  you,  I'm  saying  good-bye  to  all  the  old  life, 
and  to  whatever  of  good  there  was  in  me.  I  shall  try 
not  to  make  Lord  Feltham  miserable.  I  shall  try  to*re- 
spect  him,  the  more  so  because  you  once  liked  him  "  (for 
with  rare  delicacy,  with  fine  intuitive  generosity,  Esther 
had  had  the  courage  to  tell  the  whole  truth  to  Jane,  and, 
in  telling  it,  to  make  Oliver's  character  shine.)  "  I  shall 
do  my  duty,  and  in  time  I  shall  come,  no  doubt,  to  take  a 
pleasure  in  my  diamonds !  But,  Esther,"  she  came  close, 
and  laid  her  cold,  little  hand  upon  her  friend's,  "  there 
was  something  capable  of  better  things  in  me.  When  I 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  goodness  just  now,  and  called  love 
and  goodness  as  selfish  as  —  doing  what  I'm  going  to  do  ! 
I  didn't  mean  it.  Poverty  and  work,  and  self-sacrifice 
and  all,  Esther,  you're  better  off  than  I  am  —  Paul  loves 
you !  " 

*  *  *  *•:.*•„•* 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  Esther  Fleming 
stood,  at  the  appointed  hour,  by  the  window  of  Mr. 
Scott's  drawing-room,  and  waited  for  Paul  Chichester's 
coming.  The  smell  from  the  lilacs  in  the  square  brought 
Countisbury  vividly  before  her.  She  could  see  herself  in 
the  house-place,  going  through  her  monotonous  daily 
tasks ;  could  see  herself  in  the  long  summer  evenings,  a 
saddened  woman,  walking  slowly  up  and  down  the  ter- 
race, where,  two  years  ago,  a  girl  —  herself — used  to 
walk  with  elastic  step  and  a  heart  full  of  buoyancy  and 
trust  in  the  future  ;  could  imagine  how  a  very  few  more 
years  would  bring  her  quite  close  to  Joan  and  David ; 
and  how  one  or  two  faded  letters,  and  the  old  Vandyke 
upon  her  wall,  alone  would  remind  her  with  a  start,  at 


444  THE  ORDEAL   FOR    WIVES. 

times,  that  she  too  had  once  been  young ;  that  hope,  that 
love,  had  once  been  in  her  very  hands ;  and  that  love  and 
hope  had  just  passed  away,  silently  but  irrevocably,  out 
of  her  life,  as  her  youth  had  done. 

"  Esther,  you  never  heard  me  come  up.  Miss  Dash- 
wood  was  going  out  as  I  reached  the  house,  and  gave  me 
leave  to  enter.  Let  me  look  at  you,  child.  So !  It  is 
good  to  see  your  face  again."  And  Paul  took  her  in  his 
arms. 

For  a  minute  she  let  him  hold  her  so;  for  a  minute  she 
could  not  remember  one  of  the  sentences  —  the  well- 
turned,  admirable  sentences  —  in  which  she  had  resolved 
to  pronounce  her  own  death  warrant.  And  Paul  profited 
by  her  silence  so  far  as  to  hold  both  her  hands  in  his,  and 
read  steadily  all  the  suffering  and  all  the  resolve  of  that 
downcast,  palid  face. 

"  Esther,  let  me  speak  first,"  he  said,  when  his  survey 
was  completed.  "  It  will  be  best  so." 

"  No,  Mr.  Chichester,  no ; "  and  she  drew  her  hands 
away  resolutely ;  "  I  don't  want  strengthening  by  any- 
thing that  you  can  have  to  say.  I  have  thought  it  all 
out :  I  know  exactly  what  I  must  do." 

And  then  she  tpld  him,  but  not  at  all  in  well-turned 
sentences,  how  she  meant  to  abide  by  her  first  resolution, 
and  what  her  plans  were  for  the  remainder  of  her  life. 

"And  you  don't  intend  to  marry  me  ?  That  seems 
wholly  to  have  past  out  of  your  mind." 

"No,  sir,  I  don't  mean  to  marry  you.  You  know  you 
told  me  as  we  walked  home  that  you  would  never  bring 
a  wife  under  the  same  roof  with  your  sister.  You  are 
right  in  that,  and  it  is  also  right  that  while  you  live  your 
sister  should  not  be  put  away  from  under  your  roof. 
These  things  simply  are  so  ;  I  choose  the  one  path  there 
is  for  me  to  walk  in." 

For  a  moment  Paul  was  silent;  as  a  man  may  well  be 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR  WIVES.        445 

who  stands  looking  back,  for  the  last  time,  upon  the  home, 
however  dreary,  however  loveless,  which  yet  has  been  his 
home  for  years;  then  he  spoke,  and  his  voice  never  fal- 
tered, never  changed  again. 

"  Esther,  during  the  last  week  I  have  thought  as  much, 
probably  I  have  reasoned  more,  than  you,  and  I  have 
come  to  a  wholly  different  conclusion.  To  what  I  said 
when  I  saw  you  last,  I  hold  still.  A  young  fresh  life, 
children's  fresh  faces,  couldn't  grow  up  under  the  same 
roof  with  Magdalen." 

"  Never  —  never  !  "  she  clasped  her  cold  hands  passion- 
ately. "You  needn't  repeat  a  word ;  I  know  it  all." 

"  You  should  never  be  brought  under  the  same  roof 
with  her,  and  I  know  you  too  well  to  think  that  you 
would  ever  propose  that  she  and  I  should  be  parted.  I 
was  wrong  in  saying  the  decision  must  come  at  all  from 
you  ;  the  decision  is  for  me.  Esther,  if  my  sister  was 
now  as  she  was  even  some  years  ago,  I  would  not  hesitate. 
If  she  knew  me  to  the  extent  of  missing  me,  or  of  look- 
ing for  my  coming,  I  would  not  part  from  her  —  that  I 
say  and  know  to  be  truth.  As  long  as  her  heart  held  to 
me  by  the  very  frailest  thread,  she  should  have  had  no 
rival ;  but  the  time  is  past,  long  and  for  ever  past,  when 
she  was  sensible  of  affection  even  for  her  own  personal 
attendant.  Do  you  remember  meeting  me  one  winter's 
morning  near  Dr.  Wilmot's  house  at  Bath  ?  "  Did  she 
not  remember  it?  did  she  not  remember  the  lone,  red 
house  standing  out,  dark  and  desolate,  against  the  winter 
sky  !  "  Well,  at  that  time  my  sister  was  living  under  his 
care.  I  had  heard  of  his  great  ability  in  her  class  of  dis- 
orders, and  contrived  —  I  need  hardly  say  at  what  a 
sacrifice- —  to  get  her  under  his  care.  When  she  left  him 
he  pronounced  his  verdict  upon  her  state,  an  utterly  hope- 
less verdict,  I  do  not  need  to  tell  you.  At  the  same 
time  he  made  me  an  offer,  should  I  desire  it  at  any  future 
time,  to  take  her  entirely  into  his  charge. 


446  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

"  Esther,  I  know  that  she  will  be  better  with  him  than 
with  me,  and  with  him  I  have  placed  her.  I'm  not  a  man 
who  takes  long  to  decide  in  these  things.  I  felt  it  my 
duty  to  take  her  away  from  the  Carews  and  work  for  her, 
and  I  did  it.  You  have  awakened  me  now  to  an  altogeth- 
er new  sense  of  life ;  you  have  made  me  feel  that  I  owe 
more  to  myself  than  I  can  possibly  owe  even  to  the  very 
nearest  human  tie  I  have.  I  have  done  the  task  I  set  my- 
self, Magdalen  is  well  provided  for  life,  and  I  am  free  — 
free  to  live,  to  breathe  the  healthy,  common  air  of  daily 
life,  and  have  the  cares  and  joys  of  other  men.  Will  you 
do  more  than  you  have  already  done  ?  Having  brought 
me  back  to  desire  life,  will  you  make  my  life  indeed  worth 
holding  ?  Will  you  spend  it  with  me  ?  " 

She  said  not  a  word ;  only  instinctively  she  held  her 
hand  out  — instinctively  she  moved  a  step  nearer  to  his 
side. 

"  Your  answer  involves  no  question  of  Magdalen,  mind. 
Four  days  ago  I  took  her  to  Dr.  Wilmot's  charge  ;  if  you 
refused  to  marry  me  I  should  still  leave  her  there,  and 
carry  out  the  plan  I  have  formed.  My  plan  is  this  —  and 
it  is  not  new,  three  years  ago,  when  my  sister  was  very  ill 
and  the  probability  of  my  being  left  alone  was  forced  up- 
on me,  I  resolved  upon  it  —  I  shall  go  to  Australia." 

«  Paul ! " 

"  Why  do  you  look  so  miserable,  child  ?  " 

" I  could  never  bear  you  to  go;  'tis  to  the  very  end  of 
the  world!  " 

"  But  the  end  best  suited  for  a  man  like  me.  I  have 
two  friends,  schoolfellows  of  mine,  in  Australia;  one  in 
the  city  of  Adelaide,  the  other  on  a  sheep-farm  two  or 
three  hundred  miles  off;  I  shall  go  straight  to  Adelaide. 
My  friend  edits  one  of  the  first  daily  papers  there,  and 
will  put  me  on  his  staff  immediately  I  arrive.  If  I  get 
on  in  town  I  shall  lead  a  town  life  ;  if  not  —  but  I  don't 


THE  ORDEAL  FOR   WIVES.  447 

fear  —  I  will  invest  the  very  little  money  that  I  possess 
in  the  world  in  a  sheep-walk.  No  looks  of  yours  would 
change  my  intentions,  my  little  Esther  !  I've  had  enough 
of  the  old  world.  With  my  new  desire  of  life  has  come 
a  craving  for  a  new  field,  for  thoroughly  fresh  employment. 
The  question  is,  will  you  come  with  me  ?  You  are  not  un- 
suited  for  a  colonial  life." 

"  I  can  sew,  and  I  can  bake,  and  indeed  do  all  about  a 
house,  sir.  The  thing  is " 

"  Go  on,  please." 

"  Do  you  really  want  me?  I  don't  know  "  — here  she 
blushed  furiously  ;  "  but  I  feel  as  if  it  was  all  my  doing. 
I  mean  that,  through  me,  in  some  way,  your  life  has 
changed,  and  now  you  think  all  you  can  do  is  —  is  —  to 
take  me  with  you  !  Mr.  Cbichester,  I  shall  be  an  expense ! 
You  will  be  better  alone." 

"Possibly.  A  wife  is  an  incumbrance  ;  and  then  I  shall 
have  my  friend's  fire-side  to  go  to,  his  children  to  sit  upon 
my  knees.  Will  you  write  to  me  sometimes,  Miss  Fleni- 
ing?" 

She  looked  at  him  ;  and  he  took  her  to  his  breast  and 
kissed  her. 

"  You  are  making  a  miserable  marriage,"  Paul  remark- 
ed, after  a  long  silence.  "  Milly  has  married  well,  and  in 
another  month  Jane  will  have  married  well.  They  will 
both  of  them  have  as  many  friends  as  they  choose  to  pay 
for  possessing,  and  you  —  yes,  I  mean  to  take  you  at  once  ; 
you  will  not  be  Lady  Feltham's  bridesmaid,  you  will  be 
on  your  voyage  to  Australia,  poor,  friendless  and  alone." 

"Alone?"  but  the  thought  made  her  come  closer  to 
his  side.  "  Alone  ?  Oh  Paul,  I  shall  be  with  you !  " 

MORAL. 

Reader,  if  you  are  a  man  of  fortune  and  desire  the  assis- 
tance of  a  young  woman  in  getting  rid  of  that  fortune 


448  THE  ORDEAL  FOR    WIVES. 

for  you ;  if  your  heart  yearns  after  a  companion  who 
shall  dress  extravagantly,  who  shall  sit  with  credit  at  the 
head  of  your  table,  who  shall  make  your  house  generally 
attractive  to  your  friends,  —  do  as  Marmaduke  Scott,  and 
as  Lord  Felthani  did.  You  need  not  be  at  the  trouble  of 
travelling  to  find  what  you  require.  London,  Paris,  Bath, 
Brighton,  Cheltenham  ;  wherever  you  may  be  you  will 
find  the  material  ready  to  your  hand. 

Reader,  if  you  are 'a  man  of  education  but  no  money, 
and  are  so  inconceivably  single-minded  as  to  wish  to  pos- 
sess a  woman  who  shall  be  bound  to  you  for  life ;  if  you 
have  visions  (God  knows  how,  in  this  generation  they 
come  into  your  head  !)  of  a  wife  who  shall  work  with 
and  for  you,  cook  your  meat  and  mend  your  shirts,  be 
your  housekeeper  and  the  mother  of  your  children,  and 
your  own  intellectual  companion  and  truest,  tenderest 
friend  —  go  and  search  for  your  ideal  among  the  Devon- 
shire Moors  !  You  won't  get  her  in  large  cities  out  of  the 
classes  from  whom  men  take  their  wives. 

And,  unfortunately,  the  Devonshire  Moors  are  every 
day  becoming  more  enclosed. 


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and  other  sources,  by  HENHY  B.  SMITH,  D.D.,  Pro- 
fessor in  the  Union  Theological  Seminary  of  the 
City  of  New  York.  Two  vols.,  octavo.  Price, 
cloth,  $6.00. 

"It  exceeds,  in  point  of  completeness,  every  other  treatise, 
English  as  well  as  German,  and  we  have,  therefore,  no  hesi- 
tation in  calling  it  the  most  perfect  manual  of  the  History  of 
Christian  Doctrines  which  Protestant  literature  has  as  yet 
produced."— Methodist,  JV.  Y. 


STANDARD  AND   MISCELLANEOUS   BOOKS. 

£ife  of  George  Washington .  By  EDWAKD  EVERETT, 
LL.D.  With  a  steel-plate  Likeness  of  Mr.  Everett, 
from  the  celebrated  bust  by  Hiram  Powers.  One 
vol.,  12mo.,  pp.  348.  Price,  cloth,  $1.50. 

"The  biography  is  a  model  of  condensation,  and,  by  its 
rapid  narrative  and  attractive  style,  must  commend  itself  to 
the  mass  of  readers  as  the  standard  popular  Life  of  Wash 
ington.'' — Correspondence  of  the  Boston  Post. 

2*he  Science  of  Government,  in  connection 
with  American  Institutions.  By  JOSEPH  AL- 
DEN,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  President  of  State  Normal  School, 
Albany.  One  vol.,  12mo.  Price,  $1.50.  Adapted 
to  the  wants  of  High  Schools  and  Colleges. 

Atden*  s  Citizen' s  Manual.  A  Text-Book  on  Gov- 
ernment in  connection  with  American  Institutions, 
adapted  to  the  wants  of  Common  Schools.  It  is  in 
the  form  of  questions  and  answers.  By  JOSEPH 
ALDEN,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  President  of  State  Normal 
School,  Albany.  In  one  vol.,  16mo.  Price,  50  cts. 
"  There  is  no  more  important  secular  study  than  the  study 
of  the  institutions  of  our  own  country  ;  and  there  is  no  book 
on  the  subject  so  clear,  comprehensive,  and  complete  in  itself 
as  the  volume  before  us." — New  York  Independent. 

ftfacaiitqy's  .Essays.  The  Critical,  Historical,  and 
Miscellaneous  Essays  of  the  Eight  Hon.  THOMAS 
BABINGTON  MACAULAY,  with  an  Introduction  and  Bio- 
graphical Sketch  of  the  Author,  by  E.  P.  WHIPPLE, 
and  containing  a  new  steel-plate  Likeness  of  Mac- 
aulay,  and  a  complete  index.  Six  vols.,  crown 
octavo.  Price,  on  tinted  paper,  extra  cloth,  $13.50; 
on  tinted  paper,  half  calf  or  morocco,  $27.00. 

Sherman's  March  through  the  Sozith.     With 

Sketches  and  Incidents  of  the  Campaign.    By  Capt. 

DAVID  P.  CONYNGHAM.     12mo.,  cloth.     Price,  $1.75. 

"  It  is  the  only  one  that  is  entitled  to  credit  for  real  ability, 

truth,  and  fairness."— J.  W.  Geary,  Maj.-Gen.  U.  8.  A. 


SHELDON   &  COMPANY'S 


Waiting  for  the  Verdict.  By  Mrs.  EEBECCA  HARDING 
DAVIS,  author  of  "Margaret  Howth,"  "Life  Among 
the  Iron  Mills,"  &c.,  &c.  One  vol.,  octavo,  illus- 
trated, bound  in  cloth.  Price,  $2.00. 

This  is  a  story  of  unusual  power  and  thrilling  interest. 

"  It  is  not  only  the  most  elaborate  work  of  its  author,  but 
it  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  works  of  fiction  by  any  Ameri- 
can writer."  —  New  York  Times. 


Tfie  Zife  and  betters  of  ftev.  Geo.  W 

thune,  3).  2).  By  Eev.  ABRAHAM  E.  VAN  NEST, 
D.D.  One  vol.,  large  12mo.,  illustrated  by  an  elegant 
steel-plate  Likeness  of  Dr.  Bethune.  Price,  $2.00. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  charming  biographies  ever  written. 
As  a  genial  and  jovial  friend,  as  an  enthusiastic  sportsman, 
as  a  thorough  theologian,  as  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and 
gifted  divines  of  his  day,  Dr.  Bethune  took  a  firm  hold  of  the 
hearts  of  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact. 


.  Steihune's  Theology,  or  EXPOSITORY  LECTURES 
ON  THE  HEIDELBERG  CATECHISM.  By  GEO.  W.  BETHUNE, 
D.D.  Two  vols.,  crowm  octavo  (Eiverside  edition), 
on  tinted  paper.  Price,  cloth,  $4.50;  half  calf,  or 
morocco,  extra,  $8.50. 

This  was  the  great  life  work  of  the  late  Dr.  Bethune,  and 
will  remain  a  monument  of  his  thorough  scholarship,  the 
classical  purity  and  beauty  of  his  style,  and  above  all,  his 
deep  and  abiding  piety. 

"  When  the  Eev.  Dr.  Bethune,  whose  memory  is  yet  green 
and  fragrant  in  the  Church,  was  about  to  leave  this  country, 
he  committed  his  manuscripts  to  a  few  friends,  giving-  them 
discretionary  power  with  regard  to  their  publication.  Among 
them  was  the  great  work  of  his  life  ;  in  his  opinion  the  work, 
and  that  from  which  he  hoped  the  most  usefulness  while  he 
lived,  and  after  he  was  dead,  if  it  should  then  be  given  to 
the  press.  This  work  was  his  course  of  lectures  on  the 
Catechism  of  the  Church  in  which  he  was  a  burning  and 
shining  light.  —  New  York  Observer* 


STANDARD   AND   MISCELLANEOUS   BOOKS. 

£ife  and  ^Labors  of  JFrancis  Wayland, 
3).  3).,  Z,.Z,.2).  Late  President  of  Brown 
University;  by  his  sons,  Hon.  FRANCIS  WAYLAND, 
and  Eev.  H.  L.  WAYLAND.  Two  vols.,  12mo.,  illus* 
trated  by  two  steel-plate  Likenesses  of  Dr.  Wayland 
Price  $4.00. 

This  is  a  most  interesting  memoir  of  one  of  those  nobld 
specimens  of  a  man,  wno  now  and  then  appear  and  direct, 
and  give  tone  to  the  thoughts  of  their  generation.  The  vol- 
umes are  enriched  by  Dr.  Wayland's  correspondence  with 
most  of  the  leading  men  of  his  day. 


DR.  WAYLAND'S  WORKS. 

Jfrinciples  and  (Practices  of  ^Baptists.      By 

FRANCIS  WAYLAND,  D.D.    1  vol.,  12mo.,  cloth.    Price, 
$1.50. 

"  We  hope  the  book  will  find  its  way  into  every  family  in 
every  Baptist  church  in  the  land,  and  should  be  glad  to  know 
it  was  generally  circulated  in  the  families  of  other  churches." 

Christian  Chronicle. 

A  Memoir  of  the  £ife  and  ^Labors  of  the 
Sier.  Adoniram  Jtidson,  2).  2).  By  FRAN- 
CIS WAYLAND,  D.D.  Illustrated  with  a  fine  Portrait 
of  Dr.  Judson.  Two  vols.  in  one,  12mo.  Price,  $2.50. 

The   dements  of  Intellectual   ^Philosophy. 

By  FRANCIS  WAYLAND,  D.D.    One  vol.,  12mo.    Price, 

$1.75. 

Sermons  to  the  Churches.  By  FRANCIS  WAYLAND, 
D.D.  One  vol.,  12mo.  Price,  $1.00. 

"  Dr.  Wayland  is  a  clear  thinker,  and  a  strong  and  elegant 
writer.  His  Sermons  are  models  worthy  of  study." — Chri* 
tian  Intelligencer. 


SHELDON   &   COMPANY'S 


Ztieutenant-  General  Jf infield  Scott's  Autobi- 
ography.  Two  vols.j  12mo.,  illustrated  with  two 
steel-plate  Likenesses  of  the  General.  Price,  per 
set,  in  cloth,  $4.00;  half  calf,  $8.00.  An  elegant 
"large  paper"  edition  of  this  valuable  book,  on 
tinted  paper,  price  $10.00;  half  calf,  or  morocco, 
$12.50. 

Milttian's  Z/atin  Christianity.  History  of  Latin 
Christianity,  including  that  of  the  Popes  to  the  pon- 
tificate of  Nicolas  V.  By  HENRY  HART  MILMAN,  D.D., 
Dean  of  St.  Paul's.  Eight  vols.,  crown  octavo. 
Price,  extra  cloth,  $20.00. 

"  In  beauty  and  brilliancy  of  style  he  excels  Hallam,  ap. 
preaches  Gibbon,  and  is  only  surpassed  by  the  unrivaled 
Macaulay." — Mercersburg  Review. 

Fleming's  Vocabulary  of  'Philosophy.  With 
Additions  by  CHARLES  P.  KRAUTH,  D.D.  Small  8vo. 
Price,  $2.50. 

"To  students  of  mental  science  this  book  is  invaluable 
Dr.  K.  has  done  good  service  by  the  additions  to  the  work  of 
Dr.  Fleming,  and  the  whole  volume  is  one  which  will  be 
eagerly  sought  and  cordially  appreciated." — Evangelical  Quar- 
terly. 

£,ong9s  Classical  Atlas.  Constructed  by  WM. 
HUGHES  and  edited  by  GEORGE  LONG,  with  a  Sketch 
of  Classical  Geography.  With  fifty-two  Maps,  and 
an  Index  of  Places. 

This  Atlas  will  be  an  invaluable  aid  to  the  stu- 
dent of  Ancient  History,  as  well  as  tJie  Bible  stu- 
dent. One  vol.,  quarto.  Price,  $4.50. 

"  Now  that  we  are  so  well  supplied  with  classical  diction- 
aries, it  is  highly  desirable  that  we  should  have  an  atlaa 
worthy  to  accompany  them.  In  the  volume  before  us  is  to 
be  found  all  that  can  be  desired.'' — London  Athenceun. 


SHELDON   &  COMPANY'S 


StibKcal  Commentary  on  the  New  Testament. 

By  Dr.  HEHMANN  OLSHAUSEN.  Continued  after  his 
death  by  Ebrard  and  Wiesinger.  Carefully  revised, 
after  the  last  German  Edition,  by  A.  C.  KENDKICK, 
D.D.,  Greek  Professor  in  the  University  of  Koch- 
ester.  Six  vols.,  large  octavo.  Price,  cloth,  $18.00. 
"  I  regard  the  Commentary  as  the  most  valuable  of  those 
on  the  New  Testament  in  the  English  language,  happily 
combining  the  religious  spirit  of  the  English  expositors  with 
the  critical  learning  of  the  German.  The  American  editor 
has  evidently  performed  his  task  well,  as  might  be  expected 
from  his  eminent  qualifications." — President  Sears,  of  Brown 
University. 

The  Annotated  'Paragraph  ?Bib2e.  According 
to  the  authorized  version,  arranged  in  Paragraphs 
and  Parallelisms,  with  Explanatory  Notes,  Prefaces 
to  the  several  Books,  and  an  entirely  new  Selection 
of  Eeferences  to  Parallel  and  Illustrative  Passages. 
An  issue  of  the  London  Religious  Tract  Society, — 
republished.  Complete  in  one  royal  octavo  volume, 
with  Maps,  &c.  Price,  library  sheep,  $8.00. 

The  Annotated  'Paragraph  New  Testament* 

In  one  octavo  volume,  uniform  style.     Price,  mus- 
lin, $2.50. 

"  I  have  carefully  examined  a  considerable  portion  of  the 
work,  and  consider  it  eminently  adapted  to  increase  and  dif- 
fuse a  knowledge  of  the  Word  of  God.  I  heartily  recommend 
it  to  Christians  of  every  denomination,  and  especially  to 
teachers  of  Bible  Classes  and  Sabbath  Schools,  to  whom  it 
will  prove  an  invaluable  aid." — Rev.  Dr.  Wayland. 

7.'?io2uck  on  the  Gospe2  of  John.  Translated  by 
CHARLES  J.  KKAUTH,  D.D.  One  vol.,  octavo.  Price, 
$3.00. 

"  We  hail  with  much  pleasure  the  appearance  of  Krauth'g 
translation  of  *  Tholuck  on  the  Gospel  of  John/  We  trust 
the  work,  in  this  its  English  dress,  will  find  a  wide  circula- 
tion."— Bibliotheca  Sacra. 


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